Life Goes On
by chainofcommand
Summary: Jack's been dead for a month, unknown to the girlfriend he left behind in Boston. Girlfriend turns up on Bobby's doorstep about two/two and half months after the film ended.
1. Prologue

_So, this takes place about a month after the film ended. It's just a prologue to introduce Jack's girlfriend – there are no original characters as yet, but wait and then you will get a whole lotta Bobby!_

**Life Goes **

Prologue

Lydia picked up her phone. She scrolled through the contacts, even though she knew his number by heart, before chickening out and putting the phone back down. He'd said he would call, but he'd left for Detroit a month ago. Did he just not want her anymore? Old insecurities came bubbling up again and her eyes threatened to tear at this new rejection – one in a long list.

Oh for fuck sake! She thought – one guy, one new let down. It's not like Jack Mercer was the first person to screw her and then screw her over – guys had been doing that since she was twelve.

Using the anger to cover up the growing hole in her chest, Lydia got up and showered. After throwing on work clothes and make-up, Lydia left the apartment, narrowly avoiding the landlord who was owed two months' rent and never failed to tell Lydia about the ways she could settle this without cash. She swore to herself she would never sell herself – a promise she made to her mother when Stacey had been lying in hospital after getting beaten up by a punter. Three days later, her mother had been released. It happened again six weeks later – same story, different guy. She didn't get released this time. That was when Lydia was ten. With father 'unknown' she'd been packed off to the nearest foster home. Eight years of dodging scumbags couldn't keep their hands – or what was in their pants – to themselves without proper incentives and foster mothers that didn't give a damn as long as the checks kept coming and she had been old enough to live alone. Eight years that felt like eight lifetimes.

She was older now, and smarter than the first time a guy had left her after getting what he wanted. She really liked Jack, was in real danger of loving him, but she had learnt long ago not to let her life revolve around one person. Because people leave, people always leave eventually, if they stick around in the first place. No matter how many times they tell you they love you.

The sudden warmth that heralded her entrance to the club cut of this train of thought before she could start to brood – naturally intense, Lydia could brood with the best of them. Tony was behind the bar as usual when she came in from the back.

'Club's open in ten, kid, where ya been?'

'Sorry, Tony, lost track of the time.'

'Been thinking about that musician of yours?' At six foot and three hundred pounds of tattoos and piercings, Tony did not look like Dr. Phil. He still tried to go a pretty good impression when Lydia was going through another rough patch. The closest she'd ever got to have an authority figure that actually had some authority, Tony knew Lydia in a way no one else did. He'd found on the doorstep out back, a tiny, skeletal thing with a mean left hook. He'd picked her up by the scruff of the neck, dusted her off and given her a job. She hadn't met someone like Tony before; a scary, yet stand up guy, you only had to fear Tony when you got out of line. Fiercely protective, he'd given her a sofa to sleep, never suggesting she could share his bed, and cuffed her on the head when she'd asked if he was a fag – the idea of a guy being nice to her because he could was beyond Lydia at that point, she had seen to much to prove otherwise.

Lydia didn't answer. That someone, even if it was Tony, could tell she was hung up on Jack was bad. She gained a reputation as an ice maiden and only Jack, with his battered guitar, soulful eyes and own emotional baggage, had had any success in getting her to thaw. Now the cracks were showing and she knew the guys around here enough that they'd take the chance to get into her pants. Keep tryin', boys, she thought, there's nothing for you down there.

Tony shook his head and wiped down the bar again. He liked Jack – wouldn't let the Mercer kid get away with so much if he didn't, but if he kept messing Dee around, well, Tony may find a reason to visit Detroit. With a baseball bat.

Lydia soon hit her stride and the evening melted into night with ease. Having worked at Tony's for six years now, she felt more at home in the dingy, warm bar than she ever did in her apartment. But tonight, something was wrong – it was too hot, Lydia was plucking at the clingy red top, getting more and more pissed as the evening wore on. Finally, about 12.30am Lydia gave up and fainted.

Tony heard the thud followed by gasps and looked around to see Dee out cold on the floor. Picking her up, he yelled that the club was closed, time for everyone to go on home. This announcement was greeted with yells and protests before Tony asked if anyone wanted to take it up with him personally. The club was cleared in five minutes.

Laying Lydia on the sofa in the office, Tony wiped her face with a damp cloth. Lydia slowly came around, took one look at him and threw up on the floor.

'Nice, kid. Is this the thanks I get for losing business for you?'

'Sorry, Tony. I don't know what the matter with me is.' Lydia sat up and then grabbed Tony when her head spun.

'Knocked up?'

'What? NO! I'm not. I'm just ill. I must be. I can't be … I'm not … oh shit! ...I' gonna kill Jack Mercer!'


	2. Six weeks later

_So, here's the disclaimer I forgot to put in the prologue; unfortunately I do not own Four Brothers, mores' the pity. Four Brothers is owned by Paramount Pictures, produced by Di Bonaventura Pictures. If you don't like this: 1. don't read it and 2. Complain to the lucky bastards who are actually making money out of the film, because I'm not._

_Thanks for reviewing – keep it up, any ideas are welcome! _

_And so, with legalities out of the way we can continue... _

Chapter One.

Bobby Mercer had just sat down in front of the TV with a cold beer when the doorbell rang.

What the hell? There were only three types of people who would turn up at your house, in Detroit, at this time of night; ho's, pimps and cops looking for the other two. None of them would ring the doorbell. Break the door down, sure, but ring the doorbell?

Sighing, Bobby heaved himself up and took a swig of his beer – whoever it was would need his good graces and they weren't gonna get them without him being at least a little inebriated.

When he opened the door he was surprised to find a pale, thin white girl. She had the tired, guarded look that said life had been giving her a hard time and she knew it wasn't going to let up anytime soon. He caught her glancing down the street before she looked at him, sizing him up. So this girl knew how to take care of herself? Good, 'cause he sure as hell wasn't gonna bother – he may be Evelyn Mercer's son but Bobby didn't pick up strays.

They stood, waiting for the other one to make the first move, before Bobby got cold standing on the front porch in just a T-shirt.

"Yeah?" he said, with his characteristic bluntness.

The girl's brow furrowed slightly – not angry, thinking, Bobby noted. "Is Jack here?"

Bobby didn't show the blow to his gut that these words packed – six weeks since they'd buried Jack and the wounds were still fresh.

"No."

"Where is he?"

"At the cemetery."

"Why?"

Bobby was getting sick of the questions. He was cold, tired and he didn't want to talk about his dead baby brother. "'Cause he's dead," Bobby said, hoping to end the conversation.

He did. The girl fainted.

Bobby sighed again; he meant to make her leave, not lose consciousness. Picking her up, Bobby kicked the door closed and laid her on the sofa. She moaned slightly but didn't wake up. Growing up the eldest of the Mercer brothers had taught Bobby how to deal with unconsciousness. He went to the kitchen and got a glass of cold water. Pausing in the kitchen, he wondered whether he should go Mom's route or his. Remembering how light the girl had been when he'd carried her and how a sentence had made her faint, Bobby decided chucking icy cold water over her probably wasn't the best way to wake her up. Mom's route it was then. Grabbing a clean dish cloth - wondering whether Sofia had been making herself useful by doing the laundry, because he hadn't been and knowing Angel there was no way there was clean stuff in the house – Bobby wound his way through the dining room into the living room. He dipped the cloth into the glass of water and dabbed at the girl's face, feeling faintly ridiculous – he was the Michigan Mauler for Christ's sake, not Florence friggin' Nightingale.

She swatted his hand away, groaning and rolling over. Pulling her – he was really going to have to find out her name soon – back, Bobby shook her a little.

"Hey, kid, wake up."

"Go 'way, Tony," she mumbled, trying to extract her arms from his grip.

"It's not Tony. I'm Bobby. You fainted on my front porch."

That got the girl's attention, finally. Rousing herself enough to sit up, she shook her head to clear, clutched it when that made the feeling worse, then frown when she felt the new bump fainting again has made on her head. This fainting thing was getting old, fast.

"Was your name?"

"Lydia."

"Okay, Lydia. Do you know where you are?"

"Your sofa?"

"Okay, now give me a state."

"I'm in Detroit, looking for Jack Mercer."

So she had city and her purpose. Good, now he didn't feel so bad about kicking her out so he could go to bed.

"But Jack's dead. He's dead. That's why he didn't call. He couldn't. 'Cause he's at the cemetery. Buried. 'Cause he's dead." Lydia kept saying to herself as if it would somehow make it possible. Then she burst into tears – frigging pregnancy hormones! Frigging Jack Mercer! Frigging love!

Bobby watched Lydia as she curled on the sofa and wept. Confused just about covered what Bobby felt. He reached out, thinking to pat on the shoulder or something. The action seemed to bring Lydia out of her hysterics. Wiping her face and grabbing her stuff blindly, she gabbled, "well, thanks for... for telling me and helping me out. I'll be seeing ya."

She ran for the front door and managed to get it open before everything in her arms tumbled onto the floor.

"Damn it!" She got down on her knees to pick it up and saw a pair of calloused, muscular hands start to gather her belongings together.

"Why are you looking for Jack?" Bobby was still a little confused – his brother had never mentioned a girl – aside from informing Bobby that "Jack get lots of fans" while drunk in a bar. This was the kind of thing you'd boast about if your brothers kept calling you 'fairy.'

"Because, I'm having his baby."

Definitely something you would boast about if your brothers kept calling you 'fairy'.

_Having some technical difficulties at the moment so here's some info that should have been at the top of the prologue – the prologue takes place about a month after the film ends and this chapter takes place about six weeks after that so at this point Lydia is about three months pregnant. _


	3. At the Mercers'

_Chapter three in the Life Goes On series – trying to get these out fairly quickly for you guys, but, well I'm easily distracted. Oh well. Here we go._

_Please remember to review. Story suggestions are still welcome, though I've basically sorted out where this one is going. You'll be glad to know I actually know how to end this one! That doesn't happen often with me – meandering is much more my style._

**At the Mercer's.**

Half an hour had past since Bobby had found out Jack had fathered a child before he died – talk about ducking responsibility. Lydia was now sat on the sofa with a cup of tea in her hands and a large pile of used tissues in front of her. Not being the least bit domestic, Bobby had offered her his sleeve until he found the kitchen paper.

"So, you and Jack, huh?"

"Yeah, we were together for three months." This answer hadn't changed since the last time Bobby had asked. Or the time before, or the time before that, or any of the times he had asked since managing to make it from the front porch to the living room.

"Ok, give me a second here." Bobby crossed to the phone and dialled a number. "Jerry, it Bobby, I need you at Mom's. Yeah, right now. Yeah, I know it's half ten at night. I don't care if this is the first night you and Camille have had alone in five _decades_. This is family Jerry – it's about Jack. Ok, see you in ten." Bobby hung up, waited impatiently for ten seconds, and then dialled another number. "Ang, its Bobby, get home. We need to talk about Jack. No, I don't want to talk about my feelings. Just get over here will you? Jesus Christ, what is it with you and Jerry tonight? You're being a couple of bitches! Hey, say Aloha to Sofi. Yeah, I know she Spanish – I'm not an idiot!"

Smiling at the rise he got out of Angel, Bobby sat down again only to have his eyes automatically focus on the woman on his couch.

"So, you and -"

"Bobby thanks for everything, but if you ask me that one more time I'm gonna belt you."

"Ok." Bobby ran through what he knew about her; beautiful, pregnant, smart if possibly lacking in common sense if she let Jack knock her up, and direct. So far, Bobby liked her – well, he could see why Jack would want to get her pregnant, anyway.

It took Jerry and Angel about quarter of an hour to reach the house, by which time Lydia was once again warm and dry, and getting rather sleepy. Unfortunately, the late hour meant the chances of her getting a motel room were slim and it was going to be the early hours of the morning before Bobby had got this all straightened out – the concept of her having Jack's baby, but Jack being dead which meant her raising a baby alone was somehow too much for Bobby. So far Lydia had brought up going back to Boston twice and each time she had been meant with a glare that would freeze anyone else, but Lydia was just too exhausted, both emotionally and physically, to be intimidated.

She got the very male once-over by Angel and a cursory glance from Jerry, who was already heading over to his older brother.

"What's going on, Bobby, you drag us over here at nearly 11 at night. Why? To show us you can actually get a girl to go home with you?"

"Nice, Ang, thanks. No, she's not mine. She's Jack's."

Angel stopped starring at Lydia and Jerry started to. Uncomfortable didn't quite cover what Lydia felt, until Jerry smiled. He had a nice smile, a hey-I'm-a-nice-guy-don't-be-scared smile. It reminded her of Jack's a little, only less mischievous. Lydia smiled back, unsure, and the smile grew to a grin. He hadn't said anything, but she liked Jerry already. From Jack had told her about his brothers, Jerry was the steady one – wife, two kids, legal job.

Angel was a whole other story – the pretty boy of the family, Angel didn't see a girl he couldn't, and wouldn't should the opportunity arise, get into bed. Lydia was more weary of him, she knew he wouldn't push it, not with her being 'Jack's girl', but Lydia was done being made to feel like a piece of ass.

"Jack's girl?"

"Yeah, he left her in Boston to come to Mom's funeral. They started dating 'bout five months before that. She's three months pregnant, baby's Jack's."

Bobby covered the basics without preamble or unnecessary words – Lydia was starting to understand that Bobby didn't mince words and he didn't say anything he didn't mean. He reminded her of Tony, a natural, no nonsense protector.

She closed her eyes and remembered what Jack had said about his family, when he finally talked about them, only three days before he got the phone call that started Lydia on this road.

_**Flashback:**_

_**They were sat on the couch in Lydia's apartment. She had her legs over Jack's and he was absently tracing the swirls on her socks.**_

"_**So..."**_

"_**So, what?"**_

"_**Are you gonna tell me anything about your family?"**_

"_**Three brothers, like me all adopted, by our Mom, Evelyn Mercer."**_

"_**What are they like?"**_

_**Jack looked at her long enough for her to see the do-we-HAVE-to-talk-about-this look that he usually gave her when she asked why he hadn't bought more milk when he finished off the carton.**_

"_**Come on, Jack, give me something here." She nudged him with her foot.**_

_**Jack grinned at her and pulled her flat on the couch before covering her.**_

"_**I meant information, not...you know."**_

_**Jack looked down at her, and rolled her eyes when he realised he wasn't going to win this one. "Why do you want to know?" **_

"'_**Cause, you always mention them, but you never talk about them. It's always 'Bobby could have taken that guy' or 'she wouldn't be walking away if it was Angel' or 'god, I wish Jerry was here, he would have known what to say to those cops'. You even mention your Mom, but you never TALK about them. So talk!"**_

"_**Ug, alright." Jack took a deep breath and began. She could tell from the way he talked about them that he really loved them, wanted to tell her about them. But he seemed worried, like she wouldn't like them, or he'd give the wrong impression.**_

"_**My mom's nice. She gets kids out of the system and into real homes. She'd been at it for about 15 years before she met Bobby. No one wanted Bobby, and Bobby wanted no one. So she took him home. Same with Jerry, then Angel, then me." Jack had shuddered at this point, remembering his life in the system, what could have happened if his mom had been like everyone else and hadn't cared? **_

_**Lydia sat up and wrapped her arms around, encouraging him without words to continue. She wanted to hear this story – the fairytale that she, like many, had had, where someone somewhere wanted them, loved them even. A flash of jealousy had passed through her – why did those four get a real home when she, like many, had been disappointed, heartbroken when the fairytale turned out to be nothing but a useless dream? Then she looked at the man next to her; Jack's head was down, still reliving some of the horrors of his childhood. She felt ashamed at her jealousy – it wasn't Jack's fault she wasn't wanted – she was glad that he had gotten out. He had told her some of the things that had happened to him in care when she had seen the scars and even now, curled up safe with him, she still felt sick that people like that were out there. She had her own demons from her youth, but they had nothing on Jack's. **_

_**Jack took another deep breath and continued. "My mom's a good person. Even after getting the four of us, she still worked on getting kids out to good homes. There were always kids coming and going out of our house. Mom would feed them; clothe them, whatever they needed. She always said they could come back whenever they wanted; most did, the rest either died or went to prison. **_

_**Bobby's the eldest; we never had a dad, but we never needed one. When Bobby was on your side, no one had the guts to try anything. They called him the Michigan Mauler, for good reason. I remember one time, about a month after Mom adopted me, I was walking home from school when this one foster dad I had to stay with found me. He was one of the worst – Dirk? You remember?" – Lydia remembered, bile rising in her throat when she saw Jack rub the scar on his wrist, one of the ones Dirk had given him – "anyway, he dragged me into this alley. I was so scared I forgot everything, how to fight, how to run... how to scream. So, Dirk there, asking why I hadn't come back. When I didn't say anything, he hit me, right across the face, hurt like hell. That's when Bobby came into the alley. Mom had sent him out looking for me when I hadn't made it home. Bobby took one look at this guy and ran him into the ground. Just tackled him and started beating the shit out of him – Bobby was only seventeen at the time but he was already huge. Dirk's just on the ground, bleeding. He's says that he'll be back for me. So Bobby's kicks him in the face and tells him he'll never make it to me. Bobby'll kill him first. He'll kill anyone that comes after his brother. That's the first time Bobby called me his brother, first time I knew I belonged somewhere. I went home that night and took everything out if my sock drawer that weren't socks – I'd never kept my toothbrush in the bathroom before that day."**_

_**Lydia couldn't help but be impressed by Bobby, and by Evelyn. She must be hell of a woman to break down these boys' walls and make them a family. I wish I could meet her, Lydia thought. But she never would; meeting a guy's family was just not something Lydia did, felt too much like The Next Step. **_

_**Unaware of Lydia's inner musings, Jack continued, "then there's Jerry. Bobby's seven years older than me, Jerry's two years younger than that, with Angel two years younger than that. Jerry's the smart one – Mom always said that's he's the one that would make the real money if he wanted to. Jerry always wanted us to think about what we were doing before we did it. Doesn't mean he didn't fight though. We were in this bar back home when someone says something about Mom. Bobby's too wasted to hit him so we thought that was it over, until Jerry leaps over Bobby, who's on the floor at this point, and grabs the guy's head. He just slams it into the bar, picks Bobby off the floor and says it time to go home. Typical Jerry, no fuss, no bitching, just do then confess to Mom, before she can find out for herself. She ALWAYS finds out and it's ALWAYS worse if she finds out from someone other than you. He calmed down once he met Camille. She's nice. They got married and had their first right before I left. In the church it was just me and Mom on Jerry's side; Angel was in the Marines and Bobby was in prison. I forget which one that time."**_

"_**They sound like a handful."**_

"_**I haven't told you about Angel yet. Between his girls and his hustlin' he gave Mom more trouble with the police than the other two combined. Jerry was too smart to get caught, and Bobby was too scary. That and his favourite girl, Sofia, has a big mouth"**_

_**Lydia had to laugh at that. Jack looked at her as she laughed with a strange expression on his face, tender somehow, more open than she'd every really seen her. He kissed her quickly then started his story again before she could reach for him.**_

"_**So, yeah, um, Angel." Jack seemed to have difficulty forming sentences suddenly. "Angel, you know, he's cool. Bit intense for a guy that doesn't seem to think much. Mom says the only time Angel opens his mouth is when he wants something. Bobby says Angel only the only time opens his mouth is to get smacked in the face." Lydia laughed again and Jack seemed pleased that she wasn't running from his insane family that thought of the law more as challenge, rather than a set of rules. "He joined the Marines not long after Bobby left; he couldn't really do anything else in Detroit. People heard the name Mercer and ran in the other direction as fast as they could. The last person anyone wanted to hire was the little brother of the local pyromaniac, the guy who got kicked out of the Hockey League for **_**fighting**_**. Angel was a good hustler, though. Apparently it was the smile, people liked the smile; it could make them do anything. I asked Ang why he smiled once and he said "'cause, Jackie, if people are looking at your smile, they're not looking at their wallets." I guess his was right, because he could lift pretty much anything he wanted to."**_

_**End flashback.**_

Lydia came out of her reverie to find that Bobby had been saying her name for a while. "Sorry, just... thinking. What was the question?"

The expression on Bobby's face made him look non-scary for a second. Then his face hardened and the frown was back. "I was just asking where you were staying."

"Oh, dunno. Can you name a motel?"

"Not one you actually want to stay at. You can stay here for the night – I can keep an eye on you that way. Jerry and Ang will be back tomorrow with the girls so we can talk about this properly."

"Ok, thanks" Lydia wasn't about to get riled about the 'keeping an eye on her' comment – he was giving her a place to stay after all.

_Ok, I'm sorry the flashback is so long – it was only going to be a few lines but then this is the time Jack talks about his family, since it's so close to the beginning of the film, and also it's the first time Jack and Lydia interact so I wanted to show a bit of their relationship. It wouldn't have been so long but I couldn't restrain myself!_

_As always, lovely people are those who review._

_Note to mellowenglishgirl: Get your arse moving on the underworld one - I'm going into withdrawal!_


	4. Meeting the Mercers

_Writing these quite quickly but my internet seems to hate me, so I apologise when suddenly there's like three new chapters at once – I could stagger them ... but no._

_Love to those who review! And a big thank you to xxcaribbeanxx for the continued support and confidence – a big part in me continuing this story._

**Meeting the Mercers.**

Bobby Mercer.

Jerry, Camille, Daniela and Amelia Mercer.

Angel Mercer and Sofia soon-to-be-Mercer.

All waiting for her when she woke up the next morning. No wonder she had to run back upstairs and throw up.

The men were all standing when she came back down, while Camille, Sofi and the two little girls were seated at the kitchen table. Bobby was holding a mug; when she caught a whiff of coffee Lydia turned green.

Camille sprang from the table, putting her arms around Lydia to guide her to the table while hissing at Bobby to get rid of the coffee. Bobby looked vaguely amused at the 115lb woman glaring at him, but did as he was told. Camille then got Lydia a piece of unbuttered toast and told everyone they could wait until Lydia was finished. Angel didn't look happy at this and showed it by sighing and recrossing his legs the other way. Bobby just lent against the counter, shaking his head at the scene. Lydia looked over at Jerry, but looked away quickly when she saw the loving gaze he was giving his wife at looking after this girl none of them knew. Love was a bit too much for her right now. Sleeping in Jack's room had been tough enough, but watching loved up couples? Her heart beat miserably in her wounded chest.

Angel abandoned his seat on the kitchen countered before Lydia had swallowed the last bite. Every bit as protective of his little brother as Bobby, Jack being the only little brother he had, Angel wasn't about to let this girl go without knowing every detail of her relationship with Jack. Photos were optional.

"So what's going on? Jack never told us about you. You turn up after Jack's been dead for six weeks" – everyone pretended not to hear the catch in Angel's voice when he said his baby brother's name – "and you tell us you're having his baby? Did he know?"

"Ang, back off a little, alright?" Everyone looked at Bobby, of all the Mercers, he was not the one known for 'backing off'. Angel gave his brother a look, but conceded and leant against the counter once more when Bobby nodded at him.

Bobby gave Lydia the questionable benefit of his full attention – so that was where Jack learnt that stare – content to make her squirm before questioning her. He was surprised when she didn't squirm and even impressed when she folded her arms across her chest and stared right back. Bobby didn't scare her anymore. She'd had the whole night to think about and she was about to become a single mom living in the rough area of Boston – everything else seemed a little pathetic. She tried to remember that as she held Bobby's gaze.

"We need to straighten a few things out. Firstly, like Angel said, Jack didn't mention you and we think he would have, despite the circumstances, if he knew you were pregnant."

"He didn't know. When he wasn't back after a month I figured he'd just moved on. I was okay with that" – liar, she thought to herself, you were miserable, you just didn't have the guts to admit it –"but then I found out I was pregnant and I figured he deserved to know."

"So why wait? Why wait another six weeks?"

"I didn't know how far along I was. I wanted to make sure I was too far along for an abortion before I told him. Even if he hadn't" – god, it hurt to think of Jack in the past tense – "wanted the baby, I did. I wanted him to know that wasn't an option. He walking away was, but this is my kid. No one's changing that." She tilted her head up in a challenge to Bobby as she said this, letting him know that this still was debatable.

Bobby was now seriously impressed. He was even starting to like her. She obviously didn't know Jack that well if she thought he would have walked away from his kid – Mom had raised them better than that. Then again, he doubted the conversation of children had come up much in a relationship between two people with their own issues with family, with the relationship measured in weeks. Jack would have stuck around, Bobby was sure of it. But, since Jack wasn't here, Jerry had his own family and Angel was about to get married to Sofi (and no one, especially not someone who had just lost the father of their child, wanted to be there for _that_ honeymoon), the burden of this situation fell to Bobby. As the eldest and head of the family now Mom was gone, it was Bobby's responsibility to keep the family together. The family that now included a barmaid from Boston and his dead brother's unborn baby.

Bobby looked up at the family situation before him. Daniela and Amelia had been taken to the living room to colour when Lydia had dashed upstairs to throw up. Angel had moved to sit next to Sofi with his arm around the temperamental Latino's shoulders – all the better to hold her back when Bobby called her 'Chica' again, an annoying habit that Bobby had only begun. Camille was sat next to Jerry, watching Lydia like a hawk, mothering instincts going into overdrive now that she was the only Mercer mother and the family was going through drama once more.

"There's a few things that need to be sorted out. You're keeping the baby. Good, saves us the trouble of trying to talk you into it. Now, you need to get this sorted. Camille will do all the pregnancy stuff with you, doctors and whatever. Angel, Jerry and me will help you with the move."

That got Lydia's attention. "Move? What move?"

"The move up here. From Boston."

"I'm not moving."

"Then why are you here?"

"To tell Jack."

"And what were you going to do once you told him?"

"I hadn't thought that far ahead. You kind of pulled the rug from under me when you told me Jack was dead."

"Ok, well, now you're moving. You don't have to do this alone and the whole family's in Detroit. What's keeping you in Boston? You got family there?"

Other than a Hell's Angel-turned-bar owner? "No, I haven't got any family in Boston. I haven't got any family anywhere. I have got a job though. Tony let me go for a few days so I could tell Jack and see what he was going to do. He expects me back Friday."

"What happens if you don't come back? You could call him and say you're staying."

"No, I owe him better than that. Tony is all I've had for a long time, I want to explain properly. He liked Jack."

"Really?" This came from Angel, he looked glad that his little brother had been around people that liked him – he had worried about Jack while he was away. Jack was a sweet guy, but getting along with people wasn't his strong point – the Mercer smart mouth and a childhood with people that could barely be described as human ensure that Jack kept people at arm's length.

"Yeah, it was touch and go when we started going out – especially since Jack had just set fire to the bar. But Tony forgave him. I think the insurance money helped."

Angel grinned. Jack had definitely been keeping up the Mercer standards on his travels.

Bobby stepped forward to focus the attention once more. "Ok, this is what we are going to do. Angel, Jerry and I will go to work while Sofi looks after the girls. Camille will take Lydia to the doctors so that she can give the whole picture to this Tony guy when we take her back on Friday. No one say anything about Lydia being here though, or about the baby. The last thing we need is some Sweet die-hard thinking he can get somewhere by taking out the weakest link. We don't want to start that shit up again."

Bobby was speaking to everyone and no one in particular. It made Lydia feel part of something. Rather than being singled out and the conversation being about what they were going to do for her, it was about what they, as a unit, were going to do. Lydia liked that. She'd have to talk to Bobby about this whole 'weakest link' bullshit though.


	5. Getting On With It

_I could have made the last chapter really long, but I thought I'd separate it into two parts to keep the focus, rather than me go on a ramble. So, sorry for stopping in the middle of scene but it's what one of my teachers would have called a good place to 'pause for reflection.'_

_Suggestions, reviews, anything at all you want to say are all welcome, as ever._

**Getting On With It. **

Angel and Jerry disappeared to work while Sofi and Camille went to sit in the living room to tell the girls the plan. Bobby and Lydia stayed in the kitchen, neither sure what to say now that the next few days was planned, leaving both wondering about the next few hours. Neither wanted to think about what Friday might bring – for some reason it seemed important.

Bobby, impatient and uncomfortable with the emotional silence coming from Lydia, broke the silence first. "You are going to want to get dressed. You okay for clothes? We haven't done anything with Mom or Jack's yet but I can't see you walking around in any of them."

Bobby's attempt at humour brought Lydia out of the brood that was threatening to settle in. "I'm good for a couple of days. If I can use your washer and dryer I can make it until Friday."

"Yeah, whatever. It's not like me or Angel are particularly attached to either. Well, Angel maybe. One thing about laundry, if the washer or dryer are on, you might want to knock before doing in." Lydia looked confused. "Angel's black ass is not a sight anyone wants to see." Lydia eyes widened in understanding and she smile slightly. "I see. Thanks for the heads up."

Together they went upstairs. Bobby opened the door of the bedroom where Lydia had slept the night before. "This is ... was Jack's room. We'll get the boxes out soon." Indeed, the room was filled with boxes. Going over to the one nearest the door, Lydia opened it and her heart gave a painful thud when she recognised Jack's leather jacket lying on top. Bobby cleared his throat and looked away quickly as Lydia tenderly lifted the jacket out of the box. Chains jangled and the studs caught the light as she looked at it, remembering the owner.

"Are these all ...?"

"Most of it is Mom's. Some of it is Jack's, the stuff he never took with him, the stuff he brought back."

"What are you going to do with it?" Lydia knew this must be hard for Bobby, having to pack up what remained of his mother and his little brother. But still, she was angry. Jack was a person, last time she saw him he'd been pale, having spent all night up, reeling from Jerry's phone call to tell him about Evelyn's death. The last time they had spoken was a couple of days later. He had phoned up to say that there was some family stuff they had to sort out first, but then he would come back. He did not know when, may be a couple of weeks, may be as long as a month. In the background she had heard some shouting in Spanish which made Jack sigh and say he had to go before 'one of them' ripped out the phone cord like last time. She had said goodbye and Jack had replied 'Lydia, I ... I'll phone later.' It wasn't until he hung up and she acknowledged the disappointment that she realised she wanted him to say three other little words. She had never felt that before. After her mother died she never wanted anyone to say it to her, love could not make you stay, could not defeat death, so what was the point of saying it? Why put that burden on some one? How was it fair, since if you were the one that died, you'd be in a box, unthinking, unfeeling, you would not have to live with the grief that followed the love lost like they would. Lydia hated love. And she hated Jack for making her want him to say those words, even if he did not mean them. But this, to have him and his stuff be boxed up, buried, put away out of sight. It hurt in ways Lydia did not want to explore right now – may be ever. In the six weeks between her finding out she was pregnant and her coming here, she had been waiting to tell Jack that she was pregnant until it was too late for an abortion, the safest thing since she did not know how he would react, but she had also been wandering around like a ghost, feeling so lost and alone. It was crazy, she and Jack had been together for just over three months before he left, but he had made himself such a crucial part of her life that she was not sure that she wanted it without it. It had been hell. Not knowing why he was not back, wondering if there was someone in Detroit he had not told her about, if she was just some girl he had used to satisfy himself while he was away from his real girlfriend. The worse kind of love was the unrequited kind and she loathed the thought of a guy getting under her skin enough to make her that pathetic. So she had swung between boiling 'screw him, I've having this baby, _my _baby' anger and 'who am I kidding; I can't do this' melancholy. In between was every emotion in the spectrum, most of which Lydia had not experience in feeling. Then she had come here. When Bobby had said Jack was not here Lydia had plummeted, thinking that meant he was out there with _her_. When Bobby had said that Jack was dead Lydia could not comprehend so she had done the next best thing and passed out.

"Goodwill, probably. Mom would have liked the idea of helping people, even after her death. Dunno what to do with Jack's stuff though, not a big call for studded, chained leather jackets in Detroit." Bobby swallowed the lump in his throat and the anger that bubbled up at the thought of someone else wearing Jack's jacket. No one but his fairy little brother could get away with these clothes in Detroit. Mostly because no one else was the youngest Mercer, with three older brothers who were always up for a fight. But, Bobby had to admit it, wished he had said it to Jack just once, a lot of it was also that Jack did not care what people thought about him. Only his brothers. Thinking of his little brother walking around Detroit looking like he just came off supporting the Guns 'n' Roses tour, but unable to wear a tongue piercing in his kitchen because of what Bobby said to him made Bobby hate himself. Bobby would have liked to tell Jack, just once, that his style worked for him. Bobby would never walk around looking like a broke musician, but it was cool with Jack. Went with that whole song singing, guitar strumming thing Jack did.

Bobby looked at Lydia. She was sat on the floor with the jacket on her lap, stroking the worn leather. She was sat, mostly with her back to him so he did not realise that she was crying until she lifted her hand to her face. Bobby was unsure of what to do, should he get one of the girls? He was not so good with the whole weeping females thing. On the other hand, he sensed that, like him, Lydia was not one to parade her tears. He remembered locking himself in the bathroom nearly two months ago now to cry over his mother. He had not come out until he was sure the tears were over. Coming into Jack's room to see the fairy staring blindly, just strumming his guitar had damn near broke what left of Bobby's heart – Jack had deserved better than to have people keep leaving him. Now, here Bobby was, faced with the tears of the girl Jack had left behind.

Bobby sat next to Lydia and awkwardly placed his hand on her shoulder. Normally, she would have shook him off and glare at him for having the nerve to hands on her. But she could not do that now. It just hurts so fucking much, Lydia thought, burying her face in Bobby's chest, the leather jacket still gripped tightly in her hands.

They sat there for a while, neither saying a word. Bobby just rocked her back and forth, stroking her hair. The way his mother had held them when the first arrive here, with fresh wounds and knowledge that children should never have about the evils of this world. Eventually the tears stopped. Lydia was able to breathe again and she did so deeply. Bobby let her go, setting her gently on the floor. The jacket that started the waterworks lay innocently on the floor. Bobby picked it up and held it for a second before handing it to Lydia.

"I remembering packing this away. I wouldn't let Ang or Jerry. Out of everything, this was the hardest. To put it away, knowing he'd never take it out, never wear it again. It was just too final. Fuck, who thinks they're gonna have to bury their mom and their baby brother in the same month? Anyway" – Bobby shook his head, trying to shake away the hurt that flared up just holding the damn thing – "you should take it. I dunno, may be the kid can wear it when he's older." The thought of that eased the pain in Bobby's chest a little. Jack's kid wearing Jack's favourite jacket – may be Mom was right, maybe, despite everything, life really did go on.

As though reading his mind, Lydia accepted the jacket, saying, "I think Jack would have liked that. This was his favourite jacket. He wore it all the time. Said it made him brave." She laughed weakly at that, remembering Jack's grin when he had said that.

"Of course it made him brave, it used to be mine. I gave to him."

"This was yours?" Lydia raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, then he went and fairy-fied it. There was a lot less – metal – when I had it."

"Thanks Bobby."

"No problem." Emotional share time was over. Bobby stood up and, taking a backward glance at the woman looking so tiny amidst the packed boxes, he said, "if you want to go through this stuff to see if there's anything you want you can. Me and Ang and Jerry have already been through it."

"Yeah, I;d like that, thanks. Maybe pick up a few more things for the kid. I'd like him to have something of Jack's, you know, since he can't have Jack. Do you think that's stupid?"

Bobby thought of the pile of his mother's and Jack's stuff at the bottom of his closet, never to be used, but never to be throw out, just to sit there forever. "No, that's not stupid."

Lydia smiled at him, the first real smile he had seen on her. Despite the puffy eyes, tear stained face and bangs that had been pushed in every direction while he had held her, she was beautiful. Damn, but his little brother knew how to choose a girl. Bobby would give anything to have been there if his brother had brought her home. He would have loved to see the look on Jack's face when he introduced her; Bobby was sure it would have been somewhere between I-can't-believe-she's-with-me and god-please-don't-let-my-brothers-scare-her-off. He would have put Lydia through the usual Mercer welcome, while ribbing Jack about her being blind or mentally retarded to end up with him. Bobby thought about his mother trying to restrain him while making sure this girl was good enough for her youngest. He thought about Lydia giving as good as she got – she definitely would – and earning her place in the family. But mostly, Bobby just thought about how much he wanted his baby brother to be here right now.

Half an hour later, Bobby had left and Lydia came downstairs. When she walked in the living room, Camille and Sofia saw that she had jeans and thick socks on. Several tops protected her from the Detroit cold but ...

"Honey, you're gonna need a sweater under your coat. It's bitter out there." Camille took in the pale face that usually came from crying but didn't mention what she had heard. Bobby had just grabbed his coat and left – not one to share his feelings, he hadn't shared what happened upstairs either.

Wordlessly Lydia held up a thick black hoodie that looked like it would reach her knees. Camille recognised it as the one Jack had worn when they had played hockey after Thanksgiving dinner – Camille had come over long enough to wonder why Jerry had suddenly come off the phone – all she had heard was a _thwack_ and Jerry's "man, that was my _phone_!"

Smiling to Sofia and kissing her girls on the heads, Camille ushered Lydia out into the Volvo. Jerry had insisted they use it today, refusing to let his nephew-to-be (all the boys were hoping to another Mercer boy, Camille just hoped Lydia, and Detroit, could handle that) to be driven around in anything other than the safest car on the road.

They got into see the doctor soon after twelve. He was a nice guy, pushing sixty, unsurprised to see a future mother being accompanied by a friend instead of the father. On finding out how far gone Lydia thought she was he said that they could go ahead and have the first scan. This was only if Lydia wanted to, some mothers didn't, not having decided what to do about the pregnancy yet. Lydia cut him off right there stating fiercely that she was keeping her baby. Camille wrapped her arms protectively around the younger woman's shoulders and glared at the doctor in a way she hadn't glared at anyone since that police officer that had pushed Jeremiah out of the interview room.

The doctor's smile widened into a true smile of happiness. "You have no idea how glad I am to hear you say that. Some of the people that come in here don't seem to understand what a blessing a baby is."

"Let me guess, you got kids, right?" Lydia was still a little pissed at his presumption that because there was not a dad right here that soon there would not be a baby.

"Three boys, two girls and more grandkids than I can keep track of."

Lydia relented a bit. At least until he squirted cold gel onto her belly. That was forgotten the moment that she saw the tiny blob on the screen in front of her. She reached out a shaking hand and tears rolled down her face as she stroked the tiny bean of a person. The little baby that she and Jack had made.

"And there's the other one," said the doctor, pointing out a second bean slightly to the right and above the first.


	6. Didn't See That One Coming

To mellowenglishgal and C.F.W. – just coz.

**Didn't see that one Coming.**

"Huh?" Camille was shocked. Lydia was dumbfounded. Two?

"You're having twins, Miss Miles."

Lydia head spun but she refused to pass out again. Once was understandable, twice was acceptable, but three? She was not a lightweight in a cheap romance novel. And I sure a fuck won't be acting like it now I've got TWO babies to raise, Lydia lifted her hand again to stroke the second blob with an index finger.

Camille was having trouble forming a sentence. Lydia looked over at the doctor, determined to memorise the face of the man who had given her the best news of her life. The face showed evidence of a life well lived, laughter lines spread out from the eyes and mouth creating permanent crinkles, softening a face that may have been slightly intimidating without them. The skin was the colour of milky coffee, the eyes a strong, rich brown. He reminded her a lot of the guy that used to live next to her and her mom in Brooklyn. He looked after her while her mom was in hospital, reading the paper to her when he found out she could not read that well, teaching her to skate. She had called him 'Pappy' – it wasn't like she was going to call her bastard grandfather that, he had kicked her mom out when she had got pregnant in her junior year of high school.

She had really liked Pappy. She never saw him after her mom died though; the Social wouldn't let her stay with him. She remembered him kneeling in front of her, taking her tiny hands in his much larger ones, telling her that she needed to be strong like he knew she could be. A tear had rolled down his cheek as when she looked a back as she was led away – his wife and child had been killed in a gang shooting, a lot like Jack, Lydia realised. When she got out of the system she had gone looking for him, but he had died three months earlier. So she had drifted through Brooklyn, then all the way to Boston and Tony.

The doctor shifted slightly under the intense gaze of this woman. Hazel eyes focus on him, like she was remembering every line. Finally, she smiled gently and the hazel eyes lightened a little, the brow unfurrowed.

Camille grabbed Lydia's coat, not sure what to do about her behaviour – four hours alone with Lydia had taught her Lydia could be intense, but she never stared like this. Then Lydia sat up and the doctor helped her off the bed so she could stand without smearing the gel still on her stomach. Handing her a bunch of paper towels the doctor said he would be in his office for a quick talk on what Lydia needed to do now to bring the babies to term.

*****

It was almost three by the time they got home. Lydia had been starving and happy, at least for the moment, so took Camille to a local diner. Nothing on the menu looked like it was on the doctor's 'good food' list so Lydia dragged her back out and they went shopping. For probably the first time in history, a shop was completed for the Mercer household, with the boys home, without several six packs of beer being bought.

Camille had been constantly checking Lydia since the news of twins. Lydia went from up, barely able to contain that soft smile that Camille loved to see on this woman she had know for six hours, to down, one hand on the still flat belly as though terrified her babies were going the same way as Jack.

They decided to have a family dinner, all of them, and then tell everyone. That way the reactions were all at the same time and Camille was in kicking distance of anyone whose reaction Camille judged to be threatening to the fragile state Lydia was currently in. She was planning to sit opposite Angel, just to be on the safe side.

*****

Dinner was served, consumed and cleared away. Daniela and Amelia were in the living room, playing quietly before bath and bed. The adults were all sat back round the table when Bobby could not take the procrastination any longer.

"So, what did the doctor say?"

Lydia and Camille shared a look. "There's something about the baby you need to know." Lydia looked around the table; Sofia had a sympathetic look on her face, expecting some kind of tragedy and Jerry was looking at his wife, trying to read the expression on her face. Bobby and Angel were looking at each other, a little confused, a little apprehensive.

"The thing is… well… the baby is…" Lydia was trying to say the words, wondering how the plan would change now the number of babies had doubled.

"She's having twins." Camille took control over the situation, seeing how worried Lydia was. She knew how the guys would react, but Lydia had been here for less than 24 hours.

Sofia squealed – twice the babies, twice the shopping, twice the fun!

Jerry, Angel and Bobby all looked at each other. Confusion was still there but the apprehension was melting into comprehension.

"Twins."

"Yeah, Bobby." Lydia's voice was stronger now it looked like Bobby wasn't going to get pissed.

"It means there are two of them."

"Thanks, Angel, that's helpful." Bobby threw a napkin at his brother.

"Congratulations." Jerry's thoughtful voice broke through the bubble, reminding them all the proper reaction to this news. Congratulations flowed around the table, as well as a rather loud "nice going, Jack" from Bobby.

"So, what do we do now?"

"Now, we decide where you are going to live. You can't raise two kids in one of those apartments, not when we are all here."

"Bobby's right. Raising kids with the father is hard enough, but you're going to need the family, especially in the early months when they don't sleep." Lydia could see the sense in what both Bobby and Camille said but she still found herself getting defensive at being told that she couldn't do this. Usually, her reaction to 'you can't to that' would be to do it and then flip off the person who said she couldn't. But this was not a usual situation for her and they were right, her babies need more people around them than her – her mom had tried to do it alone after a messed up childhood and look what happened there. Lydia knew there were plenty of people that were single parents, but she just didn't think she could go it alone – not now that she knew the family Jack had. She wanted her kids to have this people around, they were tough and caring and everything she wished she had had when she was a kid, even before her mom died.

"It won't take long to move my stuff here. I rented the apartment furnished" – less to leave that way. She didn't say it, but the Mercer, fellow children of the system, understood the need to travel light. Stuff just weighed you down when you were on the move – "so there are just clothes, basic house stuff. Nothing much."

"If me and Angel drive you down, could you get in all into two cars?"

"Yeah, sure. Anything that doesn't fit can be left. I don't really mind."

My kind of girl, Bobby thought.

"What about this Tony guy?"

"He'll understand. If it's what's best for us, then he'll let me and the babies go. He wasn't really keen on me working in the bar much longer anyway, but there aren't that many jobs where I live. I don't exactly have a degree."

Camille noted how Lydia already considered her and the babies as 'us.' She was going to be just fine.

"Where am I going to live though? What _are_ the apartments like here?"

"You don't want to live there," Bobby interjected. When he saw Lydia's mouth open to protest he said, "you guys can live her. This is the Mercer family home after all."

You could have heard a pin drop. Bobby Mercer, inviting someone to live here? Angel opened his mouth to say something, but a pointy shoe connected with his shin. He glared over at Camille, who was purposely not looking at him.

So it was decided.


	7. Love, Life and Goodbyes

_Just to warn you guys this is a little emotional, but hey, they all miss Jack. Who doesn't?_

**Love, Life and Goodbyes. At some point they all suck.**

Three days later, Angel, Bobby and Lydia walked into Tony's bar.

"It's six. The bar doesn't open for two hours. Go away."

"That's the kind of welcome I get after getting leg cramp, just so I'm here on time?"

Tony looked up from the bar he was wiping down to see Lydia, glowing and flanked by two guys. One was black, the other white, both canvassing the place. Tony saw them checking exits, the Caucasian nudged the other one and nodded towards the restrooms. That one nodded understanding – quick exit, worse comes to the worse.

"Tony, these are two of Jack's brothers, Bobby and Angel. Angel" – the black on looked around – "and Bobby" – the other one looked up from the pool table – "this is my boss, Tony." Lydia couldn't hide the affection that was in her voice, for any of the guys.

The three men nodded at each other, but none moved. Lydia rolled her eyes at the blatant 'men being men' mentality and crossed to the bar to be enfolded in a bear hug.

"I missed you, kid. Seems no one can pour a pint with you gone."

"I always told you it was me that kept them in check."

"It was also you that let Jack burn down the place."

"Jees, one small fire and you hold it against me."

Bobby watched over the tit-for-tat banter, so familiar after the years with his brothers. These two were close, but Bobby wanted to know how close, exactly.

"So, you been taking care of her?"

"Since she was eighteen."

"So, where were you when she was getting knocked up by a broke musician?"

"I don't know, where were you when your broke musician brother was knocking her up?"

"Down boys, you've proved you've both got cocks, now let's put them away and play nice, shall we?"

"See Detroit hasn't got rid of your smart mouth, girlie."

Lydia smiled. She appreciated the protection from both guys, but really, it wasn't like her and Jack were helpless – they had managed just fine.

"So, what's going on? I don't suppose these two came back to work for me."

Bobby snorted, looking round the place. "You couldn't afford me."

"I wanted a bartender, not a stripper, princess."

Bobby took a step forward, Angel right behind him. Tony straightened up behind the bar; Lydia could see him reaching for the baseball bat he kept there.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, guys. Give a rest. I'm too tired for this." With that Lydia sat on the barstool that separated the three guys and rested her head on her hand – she really did not want these three to fight.

They were on her in a second. Bobby was asking if she was alright, standing next to her in case she needed steadying. Angel was just looking at her, taking in the drawn, tired face. Tony got her glass of water, setting it in front of her, with, "I'm sorry kid, I just got to make sure they're looking after you."

"'Course we are. That's why we're here, to get her stuff so we can take her back to Detroit, _to look after her_."

Tony looked like someone had dropped a brick on his head. "You leaving for DETROIT?"

Bobby bristled at the implied remark – "yeah, because Boston's so much better."

"At least she's got me in Boston."

"And she's got us in Detroit. We outnumbered you – a lot."

"You don't know her like I do."

"I know Jack and these are his kids. I got more of a connection with them than you do."

"You two aren't his real brothers. Gangs aren't family."

That did it. For both of the Mercers. "That's was you think, you motherfucker? That we were in a gang with Jack. What, because we don't have the same colour skin, we're not family? That's BULLSHIT!"

"Ang, calm down. That's not what Tony meant. Tony Jack was adopted by Evelyn Mercer, so were his three brothers."

"Three? You mean there are three more like Jack?"

"You kidding me? Jack was the lightweight." Bobby smirked at the big bad bartender that was suddenly white. The Mercers often had this effect on people.

"Bobby, enough. All three of you, come with me, okay? I want to get this done quickly and I want a cup of tea too."

"Doctor said you shouldn't have caffeine."

"I know, Angel."

"Shouldn't have sugar, either."

"Thanks, Angel."

"Maybe you should just have water."

"Angel! I got it!"

"I was just saying. Ow!" Bobby had smacked Angel on the back of the head. "What you hitting me for?"

"What you being mother hen for? You're driving _me _nuts!"

*****

The guys hauled up boxes from the car while Lydia unlocked the apartment. It was so strange to be back here, in this tiny, silent place. She had gone to the Mercers less than a week ago and already it felt like home. She missed the sounds of other people as they moved around the house, the security that they were there. She missed how much like family they felt to her. Camille had taken Lydia under her wing from the moment they meant, but Lydia had also become close to Sofia. The woman was loco, no doubt about it, but she was bubbly and funny too – at least when she wasn't sulking because of Bobby.

Lydia walked through to her bedroom – Bobby and Angel could handle the kitchen and living room, Tony was packing up the bathroom, but she needed to sort this space out herself. There was so much of Jack here. His book lay on the bedside table, Nikki Sixx's The Heroin Dairies, half read with a guitar pick marking his spot. Clothes were washed and folded in the closet. Sheet music lay in small piles with crumpled pieces of notepaper covering with crossings out. Jack was always so private about his music, said he couldn't write around other people. She had just accepted it; it wasn't like she was laying herself bare either. Lydia gathered the papers together, unsure of whether she wanted to throw them out, or if she could keep them. Tony had called her the first night she was at the Mercers' – it was 3 in the morning, but she didn't mind, knowing it would have been his first opportunity since she left. She had told Tony about Jack's death, who had in turn told the band. Jack was the chief songwriter and lead vocalist/guitarist. Without him, the band didn't know what they were going to do, there was talk of them disbanding – Jack was the one who brought them together and it seemed they didn't get on so great without him around.

Lydia picked up the Heroin Diaries, shoved the loose pages inside and tucked it into her purse. She could go through them later.

It didn't take long – her stuff in one box, Jack's stuff in another. It would also feel like they were moving in to a new place together, except everything she put in the box wouldn't be brought out again. There was no point – Jack was dead, it's not like he needed this stuff anymore. She was only keeping because she couldn't keep him.

"FUCK!" Lydia picked up the box and hurled it across the room. It hit the wall, rebounded and fell on the floor. Clothes lay strewn around. The door opened and Bobby, Angel and Tony all bundled into the room. They took one look at the box on one side of the room and Lydia, silent tears streaking down her face, on the other. Tony crossed to her and wrapped his arms around her.

Lydia sobbed into the man's huge chest, grief racking her body all over again. "It's not fucking fair!"

"I know it's not."

"I want him back." Lydia drew in a deep, shuddering breath before admitting, for the first time out loud, "I don't want to do this alone, I love him."

Bobby had started across the room when he saw Lydia's tears but stopped and stuck his hands in his pockets when Tony got there first. Angel was on his knees, refolding clothes and putting them back in the box.

"We know you love him Lydia. We do too. Just because he's dead it doesn't change the fact that he's my baby brother and I love him. It doesn't change the fact that he was your boyfriend, or that he's the father of your children. Just because someone's dead, it doesn't mean you have to stop loving them. You don't stop and that's why it hurts so bad." Bobby's quiet voice reached Lydia over the sound of her own crying. She lifted her head up from Tony's chest. The eldest Mercer was looking impossibly small. Pain was etched into every line on his face and he stood like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Lydia had never really appreciated Jack's relationship with Bobby before. Bobby was Jack's brother, her kids' uncle, but there was so much more to the relationship than that. Jack had hero worshipped Bobby. After a childhood Lydia knew nothing about and probably didn't want to, Bobby had been prepared to lay down his life for the family he had found. The family Evelyn Mercer had created from four boys who would either be in the ground or Death Row by now without her.

"I'm sorry, Bobby. I never … I should have … I never knew how you were with Jack so I never realised how much he meant to you. I still have thanked you for everything you're doing for me."

"Bobby shrugged and cleared his throat, a little uncomfortable with the emotion now directed at him. "Don't worry about it. You've had a lot to deal with."

"And I've dealt with it because of you. You and the rest of your family. Thank you." Lydia pulled herself out of Tony's embrace and went over to Bobby. She wrapped her arms around the eldest Mercer and hugged him. Bobby stood there, stock still for a moment, completely unsure of himself. Lydia realised how uncomfortable she must be making him and went to let go. But the moment her arms loosen enough for him to use his, Bobby put his arms around her and hugged her back.

This was the first time Lydia was really aware of Bobby as a man. And he was pretty muscular. Unsure if she would be able to breathe in a minute she still tightened her arms around him again. They stood there for a moment, Tony looking at the window, Angel looking at the box. Then the eternal moment was finally over and people began to breathe again – Lydia included. Bobby picked up the box of Jack's stuff and said he was taking it down to the car. Tony was right behind, picking up a couple of boxes from the living room as he past.

Angel stood there for a moment getting his bearings. He didn't know who he was more surprised at – the Michigan Mauler, who had had a frankly quite touching moment with a woman that he had no intend of sleeping with, or the woman who had actually hugged the Michigan Mauler. Without permission. While he was frowning. He had seen grown men run from Bobby when confronted with a lot less than frustrated grief.

"I'll just grab some stuff and …" Angel wasn't sure what he would do. The Hulk's less green brother had grabbed both the boxes from the living room.

"Angel, thank you too. I know this can't be easy for you either. From what Jack said, it seemed you were pretty protective of him growing up."

"Yeah well, he was my only younger brother. I was the one who was still there after Bobby left and Jerry got married. It was just him, me and mom for a while. Then I joined the Marines and Jackie left to become the next Steven Tyler."

Lydia laughed, "you know, I remember him saying the exact same thing. You guys really are brothers." Lydia walked over to Angel and stood in front of him for a second. "I always wanted an older brother growing up. Someone to look out for me, someone to look up to. I was so jealous when I found out Jack had three."

"You got us now."

"Yeah, I do." Lydia hugged Angel too. Unlike Bobby, she didn't put her arms around Angel's neck, but around his waist. Angel folded his arms around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. "We're here, Dee. We won't let you down." Lydia just nodded into Angel's shoulder, not trusting herself to speak.

Not like we let Jack down, Angel thought. They had really dropped the ball that day – so busy yelling at Jerry that he never even realised that Jack wasn't in the room until Bobby had yelled his name.

*****

"I'll be seeing you, Tony." Lydia was stood at the doorway to her apartment building. Bobby and Angel were in the car, thank god, she didn't need witnesses to this.

"Wish you were staying, kid. Place won't be the same without you."

"If it means anything, it won't be the same for me either. Never thought I'd be doing this without. You've been around for so long I kinda figured that even if I didn't have Jack, I'd still have family."

Tony was half embarrassed, half proud of the lump in his throat. He'd been taking care of Lydia so long that he couldn't imagine life without her. His parents hadn't been up to much, the only child of a heroin addicted hooker and an unknown father (the only thing his mom knew for sure was that he had been a soldier), family had never meant a lot to Tony. Then this kid turned up on his doorstep and he had never turned his back on her. Now she was turning her back on him – no, he corrected himself, she was making a better life for herself and her kids – something his mom had never bothered to do.

"I'm real proud of you, Dee. You're gonna be one hell of a mom."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

A weight felt like it had been lifted from Lydia's shoulders. Tony thought she could do this. And he hadn't been wrong about her yet.

"Love ya, Dee."

"Love ya, Tee."

Tony laughed – she hadn't called him that in a while. "Go on, get going. Those babies are gonna get cold in there in this weather.

Lydia wrapped her arms around him – she was being very huggy to day, she hoped this wasn't how life was going to be like from now on. Tony kissed on the forehead and she choked back tears.

Tony watched the cars drive away. Lydia had got in the same car as that Bobby guy – Tony tried not to worry. He couldn't believe she was really gone. His little girl, his Dee. Tears made his eyes wet but they didn't fall, Tony hadn't cried since he was a kid. He was really going to miss her. For some reason, he felt like he was never going to see her again.

At the corner, Lydia leant her entire upper body out of the window and waved until she never fell out of the car. Tony could just make out a hand grabbing her to pull her back in as he raised one hand in goodbye. At least Bobby had good reflexes.

"Goodbye, kid." Tony spoke to the headlights, watching them until they turned a corner and finally disappeared.

_Ok, I know it weird when there's suddenly two new chapters up at once (I spoil you guys!) but it's because I keep on just writing and adding in the chapter breaks later, so… oh, well._

_Reviews, please._


	8. Author's note

Just a quick note.. I did one for the Underworld story I had going on and there hadn't been nearly as long as break between chapters as this one, so here you go.

This story is not on a hiatus or anything it just that I'm having difficulty writing for this story - I'm not in the same place as I was when I started it. I did try to write a seventh chapter, but honestly, it was shit. So I'm done trying to force it. I really want to this story - I know how it ends, but not how it gets there and in a story, it's the journey you want, not the destination.

I am sorry for the delay and I feel guilty coz you guys have been so great, reviewing and reading and spending your time on my little story so I want to make it good for you. I could put up the chapter I wrote but you guys deserve better than my second-rate efforts.

Also, this is the first story that I ever started to write - it's my firstborn and I want to be perfect!

Okay, even of my egotistical efforts. I just wanted to explain.

Thanks and love to all!

Chainofcommand


	9. Letting Go

_So typical, isn't it? Not six hours ago, I update for the first time in months saying how I can't write this story at the moment and now here is, I think, the longest chapter so far! (Correct me if I'm wrong). As soon as I wrote the note, I could not stop thinking about Lydia and Bobby!_

_I realised what my problem was – it was not the story, it was that I was forcing the relationship between Bobby and Lydia to be something it was not. I know I said the chapter I had written was not very good, but after writing the note, I took a look at it and realised I was trying to pull the relationship in two different ways. It did not work so I was floundering. So, after some deleting here and some major revisions there, I give you (drum roll, please) chapter seven, formerly titled, 'Living with the Mercers,' now titled 'Letting Go.' (I may use the old title for another chapter)._

_Thank you for your patience! I hope this chapter is up to it – nothing much happens plot-wise, its more character driven, their thoughts and so forth. _

_Enjoy. And please review, even if it's just to say I took my sweet time writing this!_

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**Letting Go**

Lydia woke up slowly. She had been living at the Mercers for three months and it showed. In the beginning she had tried to keep her stuff, if not tidy then at least confined to her room. Not so much anymore. The babies' stuff was all laid out in the next room and her stuff was spread all over.

A couple of months ago, Sofia and Angel had surprised everyone by saying they were moving out – now they lived in an apartment about ten minutes away. So it was just Bobby, Lydia and her slowly expanding stomach in the old Mercer family home. Sometimes she felt like the universe – no matter how big she got, Lydia knew she was just going to get bigger. She tried not to dwell on that but it was difficult since she saw less and less of her feet every time she looked down.

'Dee, you up?' Bobby voice came through the door. He was careful not to come in before knocking anymore – he had forgot that she wasn't one of his brothers once and had come bursting in only to wheel around and leave (firstly through the wall) when he had seen all Lydia had on was a pair of pink girlie boxers. That was a couple of months ago . . . before she looked like she had swallowed an inflatable beach ball. Breakfast had been a little strained, given that Bobby wasn't used to walking in on a semi-naked woman that was a) not a stripper he employed, b) living with him and c) completely off-limits.

'I'm conscious.' And covered, though she didn't say that last bit. Most of the time her and Bobby were cool with each other; she wouldn't take any shit without giving it back and Bobby would never back down (the neighbours had stopped coming round to see if 'that nice pregnant girl' was okay after the third time raised voices had reached them. It had been Lydia who sent them off with a hormonal "get the FUCK OUT!" and a well aimed vase) but every so often it got a bit weird. Bobby was being a great guy; helping Lydia out, doing everything she needed to be done so it wasn't really that surprising that people in the stores would assume _he_ was the father.

Still, it made them both a little uncomfortable. Bobby kept wondering how he could explain that it was his dead brother's baby, not his and that the banshee was _definitely _not his to calm down.

It had the interesting effect of making him more desirable, though. Women seemed to view him as a challenge after seeing him with Lydia rather than an intimidating yet viable option. So he got laid more. He needed to get laid more, having all the responsibility of an expectant father, but none of the benefits.

But every time he thought about it, it just didn't seem that appealing anymore. Not the sex, the sex part still seemed great, it was just... it kind of seemed empty now. He had had no problems with walking away in the morning before the girl woke up. In fact it was the opposite, he dreaded the times when whoever it was woke up and gave him the hurt face – like she didn't know this was how it ended.

No, the thing was that he would still end up alone. No matter how long he spent between the sheets with whatever piece of ass he had picked up, he would still end up alone, unable to call one of his brothers because they were either dead, with their other half, or with their offspring.

So he ended up at home with Lydia. He would come in and no matter what time he was she would insist on cooking him something, then sitting and talking with him while he ate. He liked that part of the day. The part that made the house feel like a home again. And the damn catch was that it was this very behaviour that made the sex feel so empty. Before, he had always been alone, so he had thought he might as well be alone and get laid. But now, with Lydia there things were . . . blurry. The woman he had a family with and made his life better was the one woman he would never sleep with. And all the women he slept with would never give him a family like Lydia had.

Maybe he was not meant to have one of his own. Maybe this is what he was supposed to always be – the obnoxious, unchanging big brother/uncle figure. Maybe he was not meant to have a family of his own so that he would never abandon the one he had been accepted into.

He would not tell Lydia about his morose musings; she would kick his ass and then tell the rest of the family to get their asses over here because the Michigan Mauler was having a mid-life crisis. And then Ang and his loco hoochie would move back in and he would have to have a disgustingly happy couple right under his nose while he sulked.

His ma was right; Bobby Mercer just did not like to think. Thinking led to brooding, which led to moping, which led to Lydia asking if he had got over himself yet. Bobby smiled at this thought of the kind of heavily pregnant woman smacking him upside his head with a rolled up magazine, just like his ma used to. Then he sighed as he realised everything in his life seemed to come back to Lydia these days. Then he rolled his eyes – Bobby was one more sigh away from kicking his_ own_ ass!

He heard movement and Lydia opened her bedroom, accepting with a yawn the cup of tea he held out to her. She rubbed sleep out of her eye, making the T-shirt she was wearing ride up. It was one of Bobby's, Jack's being too small now she was in her sixth month. Bobby did not look too obviously at her belly – the last time he had, a three hours conversation of 'you think I'm fat, don't you?', 'you're not fat, you're pregnant'. '_so you do think I'm fat!'_ had followed. Bobby did not think his ears were up to it this early in the morning.

'Breakfast?'

'Yeah, sure, I'll make it.'

'I can make breakfast, Dee.'

'You can _try_; the last time you did the curtains caught fire.'

'No one told me eggs were flammable!'

'They're not, genius. The dish cloth you left in the pan then started waving around was.'

Bobby looked down. 'There's a reason I lived on takeout.'

'Yeah, so you could stay alive. Your cooking skills bring down the house, literally. Now, piss off and get ready for work while I cook. Just having you in the kitchen makes me nervous.'

'Stress isn't good for the babies.'

'So get ready then! Jesus, Bobby, I love you but you drive me nuts.'

Bobby laughed and kissed her on the top of her head, 'I know.'

Lydia put on a pair of yoga pants and headed to the kitchen.

She rubbed her belly as she scrambled eggs – the babies had woken up and it felt like they were fighting.

'Hey, no kicking your sister, young man!'

'Disciplining the unborns again, Dee?'

Lydia whirled around at the sound of Bobby's husky chuckle. He always found it funny that she talked to the babies as though she was going to get an answer. 'It's never too early to learn manners, Mr Mercer. It's never too _late _either,' she said, one eyebrow raised pointedly as Bobby began to shovel hot scrambled eggs into his mouth before choking. Bobby never waited for his food to cool and then could never decide whether to spit the food out or screw the burning sensation and swallow, thus, he choked.

Lydia rolled her eyes as she got Bobby a glass of water. He smiled appreciatively before downing the glass. Lydia curled herself up in her chair and nibbled on toast – she never used to have breakfast but Bobby wouldn't let her skip it now she was eating for three. She did it to keep him happy – and on time; the first time they had had this argument Bobby had been half an hour late for work. 'What are they gonna do, fire me? I own the place. Now eat the damn toast!' had been his reaction when she had pointed out the time.

Bobby finished the eggs and coffee, hugged Lydia and left.

Lydia had to get moving herself - Sofia was coming over in an hour to take her out and it usually took Lydia an hour to get dressed. None of her normal clothes fit her and right now she was dressing in Bobby's clothes because she had no maternity stuff – it had all been kind of crazy, the last couple of months, getting everything ready for the babies. Her own wardrobe had been her bottom priority.

That and it was depressing how huge she was so she usually spent most of the hour looking at the bump from different angles, trying to gage just how much bigger she was going to get. She hated being huge. It wasn't the pregnancy part – she loved that, swollen ankles, needing to pee every half hour, the constant need to eat increasingly weird food, the whole nine yards. It was just the huge, yet delicate part she hated. The need for people to do everything for her because she couldn't see her feet, or something might happen to the babies, or she was too tired. Any sense of being helpless pissed her off, partly because she knew she was not helpless and partly because everyone was determined to make a china doll out of her. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate how much they were all doing for her, and it wasn't that she didn't like being part of the Mercer family – a practically legendary status in Detroit. It was just that Lydia had always been alone. Even when her mom was alive she was still left alone so her mom could turn tricks. Then in the system it was better to be alone than start to get attached. Alone was safe, alone meant it didn't hurt when you were moved somewhere else. Alone meant there was no one to hurt you anymore.

But now? Now Lydia not only had two kids on the way, she had two brothers with their wives, who had become her friends, and one of those brother's kids. And she had Bobby, who had become a haven, as much as it rankled her having to admit she had _again _let someone mean so much to her. At first, Bobby had been someone to lean on, to trust. Then she started to get back on her feet and figure all this out and he had become a friend. She was closer to Bobby than Angel and Jerry, probably due to the whole proximity thing. He was still a safe place to be when it got too much. When she felt like she couldn't do this, be a mom, a single mom that had grown up in care – the only roles she had had was a hooker mom and too many variously abusive 'aunts' and 'uncles' – she would sit with Bobby.

Just him being there, being big, loud and stronger than she was made her calmer. She wasn't trying to do it alone like her mom had, she had Bobby. Someone who would protect her kids of something happened to her. She knew Bobby would rather die than have the twins be put into care to possibly have a life like the four Mercers and Lydia had had. Somewhere inside a little voice pointed out that maybe Bobby would be better for her babies than Jack would have been – nothing scared Bobby, he was consistently, unchangeable obnoxious. She thanked God for that; she had had enough of change. Jack, on the other hand, had never seemed to be able to let go of his past.

But these babies would never be Bobby's. They would always be Jack's – the underestimated, often overlooked one when being compared to his brothers. Unlike Bobby who said what the hell he wanted to with little thought to the feelings of others, Jack had had a more sensitive soul, more open and understanding to the emotions of those around him. Unlike Jerry, Jack had not had something like the Union to work for, so he had floated around, ungrounded and unfulfilled, finally finding a little solace in music. He was not as hard or disciplined as Angel, who was closet to Bobby in nature. He had been a go with the flow, strictly back up, rather than an instigator. He had been happy with her, Lydia thought. At least, she hoped he had been. They had been together for so short a time, considering everything that had happened, and it was beginning to be a while ago now. If she had not had conceived his children, Lydia often wondered whether she would still be pining for him as the one that got away, or would she have chalked him up to another big mistake and moved on. Probably the latter; moving on was what Lydia always did. She just moved on and left behind that part of her heart that could not. She thought that she would have had to leave behind a very large part of her heart when getting over Jack. Stupid Mercer charm, she thought with soft smile. That crooked smile had changed her life, first because of Jack, and then because of Bobby.

The doorbell rang and Lydia cursed. Sofia, the trustworthy late one, had chosen today to be on time. Lydia looked at her unmade face in the mirror and was grateful for that whole pregnancy radiance thing; otherwise she really would look like a fright.

She soon found out just why Sofia was on time.

'Surprise!' Camille said, hugging Lydia as soon as she got the door open. Sofia was trying to do her lip-liner in the reflection of the window next to the door, but she managed to wiggle her eyebrows in greeting. Lydia stepped out into the front porch and grabbed her boots. She sat down to tug them on, waving off Camille's help as the other woman tried to explain why they were two minutes late.

'I was going to be here early so we could plan today, but I had to wait for Miss Thang over there who was still in bed.'

'Angel has a late start today!' Sofia had finished with the lip-liner and pulled out her mascara. 'We were just about to -'

'Whoa, Sof!' Lydia threw up her hands to interrupt one of her friend's overly-graphic explanations of why she was late – Sofia tended to over share. 'I just ate and I just got over morning sickness so if you make me throw up I will kill you.'

The Latina shrugged and finally put the make-up away. 'Are you going like that?' she asked. Camille elbowed her in the side and Sofia gave her a 'what did I say?' look. Camille rolled her eyes.

'You look great, Dee.'

'No, I don't. I'm six months pregnant and huge. I'm stuck in sweats and Bobby's shirts because I don't have anything else that fits.'

'That's why I took the day off work – we are going to get your wardrobe sorted out!' Lydia paled at the very notion.

'Uh, Cam, I appreciate and love you both, but . . .' Lydia grimaced. She and Camille rarely agreed on clothing – Lydia was a black leather and combat boots girl, Camille was a more soft clothes and pleasant colours person. Basically, Lydia = scary, Camille = welcoming. Sofia = jailbait, but neither of them listened to her after she tried to force a four month pregnant, so very chesty, not quite so belly-ish Lydia into a tube top.

'But you and I don't agree on clothing. I know. That's why I took the _whole _day off.'

'You guys never listen to me,' Sofia pouted.

'That's because we're not trying to get her a job at Hooters!' Camille said, planting her hands on her hips. Lydia sniggered and Sofia stormed out to the car.

'Come on,' Lydia said, putting an arm through Camille's, 'before she leaves without us.' Camille sighed, the sigh only a mother can give, and together they walked to the Volvo.

Lydia eyed the car, 'Jerry still on the 'Jack's dead but his babies don't have to be' kick?'

Camille nodded.

'You should have seen his face when Bobby told him he had been driving me around in the 'Vette.'

'I didn't have to – Jerry ranted about it for an hour and a half when he got home.'

Lydia laughed again and strapped herself into the backseat as Camille climbed into the driver's seat. Sofia made a point of looking out of the window until Camille made a comment about her seven year old having grown out of behaviour like that. Then they both got glared out for half an hour until they reached the shopping mall.

They all clambered out of the car. 'Where to first?' Sofia asked, her mood lifting in the anticipation of the oncoming shopping.

'Don't care as long as I can pee,' Lydia said.

'You should have gone before we left!'

'I did!'

'Then why –'

'You have two six month babies sitting on your bladder and you tell me!'

'Guys, quiet.' Camille gave a falsely wide grin to an old couple who were staring at the two young women currently shooting daggers at each other. She grabbed each of them by an arm and steered them forcefully out of the parking lot and towards the stores.

Four hours later, they were back out at the Mercer house, Sofia was digging through the bags, assembling outfits for Lydia, who was lying on the sofa, her feet propped up on a cushion. Plates and cabinets rattled in the kitchen as Camille made them lunch.

Sofia was standing up with a pair of pants in each hand and was swopping them over to show Lydia how they went with the top clamped under her chin, when Bobby walked in. He took one look at the living room – which looked like a clothes store had exploded before looking at Lydia for an explanation.

'Hey, don't look at me. I'm pregnant.' She took the plate that Camille offered and tried to sit up. In an instant, Camille had whipped the plate away and Bobby was helping her up. She rolled her eyes at the both of them before demanding her sandwich back. Bobby looked hopefully at Camille, who went to make him one of his own.

'We went shopping,' Sofia said. Unlike Camille, whose relationship with Bobby had gone from strength to strength since he had arrived back in Detroit, Sofia's relationship with Bobby was still somewhat prickly. They chose to state the obvious rather than attempt any conversation that may lead to Bobby getting bitch-slapped.

'I can see that,' said Bobby, sitting down next to Lydia, his arm along the back of the sofa.

'It was time to embrace the maternity wear,' Lydia said.

'I could have told you that two months ago.'

Lydia nudged him before continuing as though he had not spoken. 'Your shirts and my sweats are just not up to it anymore,' she said, rubbing her bump.

'And I thought you looked so cute.' Sofia was stunned at the playful banter being thrown back and forth between them. She had seen Bobby in only three types of moods – antagonistic, angry and murderous. For her, to see him joking around was like watching Darth Vader tap dance – not only do you not expect it, it just does not seem right.

Bobby raised his eyes at the gormless expression on the raven-haired woman's face. He knew he must seem different to those around him, God knows he had been teased enough about it by his brothers these last few months. But he did not care, he felt better, more settled than he ever had before. He knew it had a lot to do with Lydia and her ever-expanding belly, but it had something to do with the way he viewed himself as well.

Growing up, Bobby Mercer had been the fucked up one in a family of notorious fuck-ups. He was too much. Too much for the System, too much for the Hockey League, in the end too much for Detroit which is why he had left for Chicago. He knew the image people had of him and he played it up to the hilt.

But then someone had come along who did not respect the name of Mercer. Who thought it was alright to end the life of the only person Bobby had ever let help him, the first person Bobby had ever let love him, Evelyn Mercer. Then Victor Sweet had taken the life of his brother. The image of the unconquerable Bobby Mercer had been shaken, so Bobby had dealt with it the only way he knew how – to hit back, ten times harder.

Now, he was not so angry anymore. All his life he had been angry. Angry at the people that had left him, the people that had not, the people that had hurt him and the people that had neglected him. For a while he had been angry at his mother and his little brother for daring to leave him when he had needed them so badly.

But they had not left him. They had been taken from him and he had dealt with the people who had done it, so they would never take from him again. He did not have to be angry and keep people at arm's length because his brothers were men now. They had grown while he was away and had made something of themselves, and of their own lives. They were not his to protect anymore. Even Jack had become a man, though he had not known it until a pretty girl had turned up on Bobby's doorstep and fainted her way into his life.

It was the future Bobby had to protect now and he could not do that with a heart full of fury. So he had let go and let God. Bobby did not believe in a lot of things, people for instance, but he did believe in God. He put his hand on his chest and felt the rosary hanging there, tucked away under his shirt. He felt someone looking at him and turned sideways to meet Lydia's gaze. She smiled and he grinned back reaching out to ruffle the hair she had had cut short.

It felt good to let go.

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_There we go. Hope you liked!_

_Just to let you know, I have NO IDEA when the next chapter may be up. This one seems to take me time. Probably because this is my only fanfiction so far where I have made up a completely new character so have no reference, unlike my other fanfictions where I just mess around with the author's work (with the exception of the Theodred one-shot because he was in the Lord of the Rings for about five minutes. But that was only a one-shot. It would have been worrying if it had taken me five months to write)._

_Okay . . . I'm going to stop rambling now._

_Enjoy the summer everyone. I finished about a month ago, having finished college and my A-Levels (yay!) so I thought I would not write anything summer related until now since other people may not have finished yet._

_Bye bye!_

_AND REVIEW! Coz it's nice. ___


	10. Old Friends

_Hello again! Sorry I left it so long but, hey, it's here now. I hope you guys like – if I haven't lost you to the wait!_

_Please review._

**Old****Friends**

"Is this Miss Lydia Denson speaking?" the voice on the other end asked.

Lydia gripped the phone harder, "yes, this is Lydia Denson."

"I'm Nurse Goodwood from County General Hospital in Boston. You are the registered contact for a Mr Anthony Abernathy."

"Oh my god," Lydia cried. "Tony! Is he okay? What happened?!"

"Mr Abernathy was attacked outside his bar a couple of night ago. He suffered some head injuries, several cracked ribs, a dislocated shoulder and a broken leg." The voice on the other end remained professionally dispassionate as she reduced Lydia to a quivering mass.

Jesus Christ, Lydia thought, the blood draining from her face. "Is he going to be okay?"

"Mr Abernathy is conscious and stable," the Nurse confirmed. Lydia felt giddy with relief. "He is being kept in for a few days, mostly as a precaution until his head injuries heal." Lydia was nodding through the whole speech, even though the Nurse could not see her.

"Okay, so, when can I see him?"

"He's been asking for you for a few days. The doctors wanted to wait until he was moved out of CCU, which happened to be today. He's in a regular ward now and you can visit when you like."

"Okay, I live in Detroit now, so it'll take me a few days to get there. Can you tell him I'll be there as soon as I can?"

"Certainly."

"Thank you, and thank you for calling."

"Goodbye, Miss Denson."

"Goodbye," Lydia hung up.

Bobby walked in to see an ashen-faced, trembling Lydia leaning against the wall for support. With a yell, he raced to her side and pulled her into a chair. He took a seat next to her, his arms still half around her. "What happened, Dee? What's wrong? Is it the babies? Do we need to go to hospital?" His hands fluttered over her as though he was unsure of where to put them, not wanting to hurt her more. In the end, they finished where they had started, one around her shoulders, the other hand covering hers, which were clasped together on the tabletop.

"No, I'm okay. We're okay." Lydia's voice was dull, lifeless and that scared Bobby more that if she had said she needed a doctor.

"So, what? What happened?"

"A nurse just called from a hospital in Boston. Tony got attacked; he's hurt pretty bad. I'm the contact so they called me. I have to go see him, Bobby." Lydia tried to get up but Booby pushed her back into her seat.

"Lydia, wait." She looked like she was going to protest, but Bobby gave her a look that had her closing her mouth again. "I know Tony means a lot to you, but you're not driving across the country, half-cocked in the state you're in. Just calm down and lets work this through together."

"But Tony -" Lydia half-yelled.

"-will still be there in a few days. Especially if his injuries are bad enough to get you into such a mess." Bobby thought about Tony – it was odd that a guy that size provoked such a maternal reaction in Lydia, but then again, she did seem to attract the messed up tough guys of the world.

Tears ran down Lydia's cheeks as she thought of Tony, beat up and lying in a hospital bed all alone. "I have to get to him, Bobby. He's family."

She did not have to explain family to Bobby; he knew that family did not end with blood and was well versed in the lengths people would go to to protect those they cared about.

"Okay, grab a bag; pack enough clothes for a week. Tell your doctor we're going to Boston but you'll be back in time for your appointment." Bobby let her go so she could stand, but she stayed seated, looking at him. It made him kind of uncomfortable.

"We?" she asked.

"You didn't think I was going to let you drive yourself, did you? Being seven months pregnant and all." Lydia shrugged and Bobby rolled his eyes. "I think all that amniotic fluid's gone to your brain."

Lydia grinned and threw herself into a hug that knocked the wind out of Bobby, who took a substantial baby belly to the gut – that thing was surprisingly hard. "Thank you, Bobby!"

"Yeah, yeah, don't go chucking yourself around like that – you'll make the babies sick." Bobby disentangled himself and looked at her. Her eyes were shining bright with happiness now and all Bobby could think was, 'Jesus, Jack, if you could see her now...'

Lydia went upstairs to pack her things while Bobby called Jerry and Angel to tell them what was going on. Angel agreed to come over and check the place while they were gone. Then he headed upstairs, forced Lydia to not carry the over-packed bag down the stairs herself and ordered her to call her doctor. Then he grabbed a quick shower and change of clothes since he had come in straight from work, packed a few things and headed downstairs. Jerry had said he would open and close the garage for Bobby and tell the staff what was going on on Monday. It was Friday night so Bobby decided to keep the garage closed over the weekend, something he had not done since opening the place.

Lydia was on the sofa when he brought the bags down, but she was bouncing in her seat, impatient to start. She had dinner in Tupperware boxes in a bag, a fact for which Bobby was grateful; he had skipped lunch to work on a Buick that was giving them some trouble and so was starving.

Lydia insisted on carrying the food bag while he shouldered the duffels and put them in the trunk.

It was April now so the weather was warming up, though they were still subject to cold days. Knowing Boston would be similar, they had both decided to go for lots of thinner layers rather than fewer, bulky ones. It seemed like a good decision as they were both pulling of the top layer by the time they hit the freeway.

For the most part it was a quiet trip. Neither Bobby nor Lydia had the compulsion to talk like some people did and they had pretty similar tastes in music so there were no fights over the radio. Bobby did most of the driving, staring out of the windshield with Lydia in his peripherals, stroking the bump. Once, the babies started kicking with gusto. Lydia cried out and grabbed his hand. Trying not to crash, it took Bobby a couple of minutes before he registered the gentle bumping against his hand. He looked over at Lydia, intending to berate her for nearly causing an accident but the look on her face made him stop.

She looked in awe at her belly. Turning to look at Bobby he saw intense love that made his breath stick in his throat. But it was the tears that made him ache, the tears made because of the underlying pain he saw in her glistening eyes – Jack would never feel this.

His heart thumped miserably in his chest and despite the recent revelations, he felt guilt claw at him, that he was the one sat here, that it was _his _hand on Lydia's belly, feeling those babies move. That it was Jack rotting six feet under in a cemetery in Detroit.

They did not say anything – what was there that they could say? – but drove on, Bobby's hand on Lydia's bump, her hands covering his until she fell asleep. Her hands slipped from his and it felt cold without them there. Bobby took his hand away and flexed his fingers before putting his hand on the steering wheel once more. Lydia hands fluttered as though, even in sleep, she sensed the loss of contact. But the slumbering woman's hand merely rested once more on her belly and she fell deeper into sleep.

Bobby kept driving and did not look at her again all night.

In the morning, they switched places and Lydia drove while Bobby slept. They made excellent time and where at the hospital much sooner than expected.

"I'm here to see Anthony Abernathy," Lydia said to the receptionist.

Professional as ever, the receptionist did not bat an eyelid at the arrival of a harried, very pregnant young woman, trailing scarves with her coat hanging off one shoulder. Bobby came up behind her and tried to fix Lydia up before she fell over them, dragging the coat over her shoulder before she could get cold. "Mr Abernathy is in the ward on the third floor – Room 308."

"Thank you," Lydia took one step and grabbed the reception desk for support – her head was swimming. She put her hand to her chest, feeling slightly nauseous. Bobby was by her side in a flash, holding her up. "Woo, not good."

"Not good? What's not good?" Bobby said. The cocky exterior slipped and he was a little frantic. The receptionist was hit by a strictly non-professional interest. Then realised he was holding up his pregnant girlfriend and looked away in disappointment.

"I feel a little woozy, that's all," Lydia said. She took a deep breath and straightened up. "I'm good. I want to see Tony."

"Maybe we should see a doctor, just for a minute, since we're in a hospital already," Bobby said.

"There's no need, Bobby, I'm fine. It was just the last couple of days that's all. I haven't eaten yet."

"I'll get you something to eat while you see a doctor."

"I don't want to see a doctor!" Lydia snapped.

"I don't care! We're going, come on!" Bobby started to pull her away then stopped dead. Wheeling back to the desk he asked the receptionist, "where is the maternity ward?"

"Fourth floor, west wing. Room 467."

"Thanks," Bobby took her hand and pulled Lydia to the elevators. "You okay?" he asked when the door slid closed – they were alone in the elevator so she would not get pissy about him 'fussing' in public.

"I'm fine," Lydia said shortly. Her hand rubbed her belly gently. "I'm seven months pregnant, it's not easy to travel this pregnant."

"Fucking hell, Dee! You should have told me! Did the doctor say it was alright for you to drive all this way?"

"Yes, he did! Did you really think I would do this if he didn't?" Lydia demanded, glaring at him.

"No," Bobby said grudgingly. "You're not that stupid."

"Gee, thanks."

"You're seeing the doctor."

"No, I'm not. I'm seeing Tony first."

"You're going even if I have to knock you out and carry you."

"Didn't your mother ever tell you not to threat pregnant women with bodily harm?"

Bobby shrugged. "My mother did the best she could, doesn't mean it worked all the time."

Lydia leant again the wall and folded her arms. "It worked better than you think. You're a saint compared to what you could have been."

"Gee, thanks," Bobby tossed back at her. Lydia smiled at him, looking tired. Until the elevator doors slid open and she saw the sign for the maternity ward. Then she glared.

"I'm going to see Tony," she said stubbornly.

"Tony would tell you the same thing that I would – that you need to take care of those babies before him."

"I take care of my kids just fine!"

"Yes, you do. So keep at." He took her hand and towed her to the ward desk. "She's seven months pregnant and felt dizzy and sick." The ward sister was not impressed. "Last night she got some bad news and fainted. We just want to make sure everything is okay."

"Follow me," she got up and led them to a free examination room.

Lydia put her hand on Bobby's chest. "You're not coming in here."

"Why not?" Bobby said, confused.

"There's probably going to be a lack of underwear in the room so why don't you take a seat over there?"

"Got you." Bobby took a seat, picked up a magazine and attempted to avoid the _come hither _look of the eight months pregnant woman next to him.

His ass had just fallen asleep when Lydia finally came out with the nurse. "It will all be fine," the nurse was assuring her, one hand on her arm. "Just try and stay calm and you should be okay. If there are any other problems – light headedness, dizzy spells – go see your doctor."

"Okay, thank you."

Bobby stood up, rubbing his ass. "So, what's up?"

"My stress levels are a little high. Stress can lead to toxaemia which can be dangerous to the babies. Restricted blood flow, restricted oxygen."

"Sooo, it was a good idea that you see a doctor today?" Bobby said.

"Yes," Lydia said, rolling her eyes at Bobby's smugness. "It was a good idea. Now let's go see Tony."

Tony was sat in bed eating Jell-O, bandaged up like a mummy. Lydia gave a cry and threw herself down the ward corridor into Tony. "Oof, Christ, Dee, I'm losing my Jell-O!"

"Lovely to see you, too, you big lug," Lydia said, wiping her eyes.

"Good Lord, are you crying?" Tony had never seen Lydia cry – by the time she came back to Boston she had kind of pretty much almost managed to start to deal with Jack's death.

"Crying, fainting, eating my weight in chocolate and tuna paste sandwiches – I do a lot of things I never used to," Lydia said.

"Chocolate and tuna?" Tony said, his face wrinkled in disgust.

"Yep. I really want one now actually," Lydia said, biting her lip.

"You sit and I'll get you something," Bobby said, getting a chair to put it by the bed and pushing Lydia into it.

"Ooh, can I have, now let me think, could you get some Italian? I mean real Italian? Or would something small be better until we have dinner?"

"It's four o'clock, you've been driving and you haven't eaten since last night. I'm getting you something big."

"Okay, money's in my – "

"I got it," Bobby said, walking away without touching Lydia's purse.

"He taking care of you?" Tony asked as the ward doors swung shut after Bobby.

"Yeah, he is. Bobby's been real good to us," Lydia nodded.

"Us?"

"Yeah, the three of us," Lydia said, patting her bump.

"Three," Tony shook his head. "I still can't get my head around the face that the whippet's got two other people living inside her."

"You think it's easy for me? I live with them and I still find it hard to believe."

"So, how you doing, kid?" Tony asked, patting the hand that was next to him on the bed.

"I'm doing okay. I'm living with Bobby and that's good. There's just about enough room for him and me and the babies. Don't know what we're going to do when they're older and they want their own rooms though – there are only three bedrooms in the house."

"So, you and Bobby aren't together...like that?" Tony thought he should check – three months could change a lot of things. Lydia should know that best of all.

"No, we're not. He's been awesome – the best friend big brother bodyguard guy I could have asked for."

"But no sparks?"

"Plenty of sparks but none of the romantic kind," Lydia said, thinking about all the arguments the two of them had on a day to day basis.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not. Bobby's great and I wouldn't want to lose him as my family because we messed it up with sex."

"And what does he think?"

"He gets food from me and sex from whatever other woman he wants to – isn't that every man's fantasy?"

Tony laughed then clutched at his broken ribs, waving Lydia away when she reached for him. "I'm fine, I'm fine." He took a breath. "So, what about the other two?"

"Yeah, Jerry and Ang are okay. Ang and Sofi moved out so we could have a nursery for the babies."

"Hey, that was good of them."

"Yeah, yeah, it was." Lydia nodded.

"What's wrong, kid?" Tony looked at her with a no nonsense look in his eye. Something was off, he knew it. He knew her.

"Nothing." She looked at her fingers twisting in her lap.

"Dee."

"I don't know. I'm up, I'm down, I'm every frigging which way at the moment."

"Why?"

Lydia looked up at him, fresh tears brimming in her eyes. "I miss Jack. God, it's like every moment is...incomplete somehow. Everyone is there and they are all being so wonderful to me. But Jack isn't there. He's not there when the babies kick. I never got to tell him he's having a son _and _a daughter. I know we weren't together long but I did love him."

"I know, kid. I knew it the first time you two saw each other. That's why I didn't like him."

"I thought you didn't like him 'cause he set fire to the fire and punched a cop in the restroom."

Tony shrugged then wished he had not. "Well, the first is true. The second...I had always wanted to hit that guy. He was a prick."

"Oh. So, why didn't you like Jack?"

"Because I knew his type. Messed up musician. Nice kid but not enough self-worth to stick around."

"Jack would have stuck around for his kids."

"You and I both know he would have thought they were better off without him."

"Then maybe we should have known him better."

"Jack was a man who spent every day being eaten alive by his demons."

"He would have loved them."

"Yes he did."

"But he didn't love me."

_And finally we get to the real reason she is messed up. _"Yes he did."

Lydia's eyes widened. "What?"

"Yes, he did," Tony said more slowly. "Jack loved you. Jack loved you from the moment he saw you dancing to his music behind the bar. Why do you think he had so many drinks that night?"

"Because he's a musician."

"Dee, he was a musician. In a broke band. That stayed in one place, played mainly in one, not well known musically, bar for five months. There are no the actions of a band trying to get a record deal. He loved you, kid. He stayed for you. So you could be together."

Lydia shook her head. "I don't know. It just doesn't...I can't process this." She covered her eyes with her hand. "How do you even know all this?"

"Jack told me." Tony hoped Lydia would not hit a man lying in a hospital bed. He knew he should have told her before but he honestly had not wanted to. He had thought about phoning her but he had not heard from her that often and every time he did it sounded like she was coping. He had been selfish, not wanting to be the one to break her heart all over again.

"What?" Lydia's hand came down and she looked disbelieving. Then pissed. "What do you mean he told you?"

"After a show one night, couple of days before he went home. He got drunk, started talking to me while you were still working the bar. He was talking about his family, asking whether I thought you would come to Detroit to meet his mother. I told him I didn't know. He told me that he had called Evelyn the night before, talking about you. He said he loved you."

"He never told me."

"Did you tell him that you loved him?"

"No," Lydia said.

"Why not?" Tony asked, trying to get her to understand.

"I don't know. Scared, I guess. That he wouldn't say it back. That he would say it back and suddenly I wouldn't be able to pretend it was just me and him messing around anymore. It would be a 'we' and that was terrifying to me."

"Maybe Jack felt the same way. Although, if he was talking to his mama about you I'm guessing he was going to fuck his fear and tell you anyway."

Tears trailed down Lydia's face. "He wanted me to meet Evelyn?"

"Yes he did."

"I would have liked to meet her. She sounded like an awesome lady."

"According to Jack, she was quite a bit like you – tough, but loving, too. Scary at times, but with her heart in the right place." Tony smiled, as he had done when Jack had drunkenly slurred the comparison at him, half lying on the bar.

"I didn't save kids from care. I didn't do anything with my life but serve drinks to bums and alcoholics."

"You're about to have two babies and _take care of them. _That's the most important thing you can do – you can stop your babies going into care in the first place, Dee. Not everyone is a hero; some are just good people."

Lydia nodded. Tony took her hand and squeezed it. She gave him a watery smile and laughed. "Bet you never thought that you would see the day I got huge and teary over a guy, huh?"

"No," Tony smiled. "But I hoped. You were always too precious to waste your life being eye candy to a bunch of drunks."

Lydia did not know what to say. No one had ever said something so nice to her before. The lump in her throat hurt but she spoke anyway. "Thank you, Tony," she said thickly. "Thank you for telling me he loved me."

Tony shrugged. "You would have figured it out sooner or later – you're a smart girl."

Lydia laughed and sniffed, wiping the tears away. She was quiet for a moment, looking down at the hand she was holding. "I think he was going to tell me. There was this phone call and he started to say something but he stopped. I wanted so badly for him to say he loved me."

"Would you have said it back?"

"In a heartbeat." Lydia sniffed again. "Maybe I should have just said it. Called him up like I wanted to, just to tell him."

"He would have liked that, I bet," Tony said.

"Would it have stopped him being part of that fight?" Lydia wondered aloud. "Would it have changed his actions in anyway?"

"Don't do this to yourself, Dee," Tony said gently. "You won't ever know and you'll only torture yourself. It probably wouldn't have saved Jack."

"What probably wouldn't have saved Jack?" came a hard voice. It was Bobby. He was back, food in a carton under one arm.

Lydia jumped. "You're back."

"Yeah. There wasn't any decent Italian so I got you Chinese. Had to sneak it past the receptionist downstairs – she's a frigging dragon." He gave Lydia the food but there was a coldness in his eyes that had never been there before. A thrill ran down Lydia spine and she could understand why people were so afraid of Bobby. "So, what wouldn't have save Jack?"

Lydia debated not telling him but chickened out. "Me telling him that I loved him."

Bobby sighed. At least it cleared up one thing that had been bothering him – the question of whether Lydia had cared for Jack the way he deserved. He sat on the end of the bed, feeling old. "It wouldn't have saved him, Dee. Jack died, running out of the house after a guy that called Mom a whore. He didn't have a gun with him and got blown away. Jack was always impulsive. In that moment he had nothing on his mind but going after the guy that insulted Mom. Even you being there wouldn't have saved him. I was there and I didn't save him." The pain hit Bobby full force and he had a hard time not breaking down in that ward full of people. "My baby brother, dead because I wasn't paying attention. I got distracted and it got him killed."

"It wasn't your fault, Bobby," Lydia said gently.

"So, everyone keeps telling me. But I'm the eldest. I'm meant to protect my family when no one else can. That's my job. I got sloppy. We were apart for six years and I got sloppy. Not used to looking after anyone but myself. Jacky's dead. I'll never see my brother again. I let him down. I let Mom down." The tears burned Bobby's eyes and he was glad that his hair was falling in front of his face, hiding his shame.

"Bobby?" Lydia's voice was soft but Bobby did not look up. "Bobby, look at me." He felt one hand on his shoulder the other on his chin trying to turn his face up to look at her. He resisted but Lydia would not be denied. He looked at her, tears evident but not falling – it was the most vulnerable Bobby had ever been with another person. "Bobby, you didn't let anyone down. You said it yourself Jack was impulsive. He would have gone after those guys. It's one of the things I loved about him – he was wild and crazy but he never backed down from a fight. He always looked after the people he cared about. He said you taught him that."

Bobby wrenched himself away to stand by the window, collecting himself. He waited until the view outside was no longer blurry. "Jack was a good kid. He would have been a good father."

"We were just discussing whether he would have stuck around," Tony said.

"He would have stuck around. It would have taken him a while to figure out he was what they needed but he would have done it. He always like kids," Bobby said smiling. "He was great with Jerry's kids. And the kids Mom brought home? They always seem to get pulled to him like gravity. He could calm them down when no one else could. He had this fucking insane imagination – he would tell them all these stories and they would sit there worshipping the guy. It always made Mom smile."

"What stories did he tell?" Lydia asked, standing at the foot of the bed where Bobby had pulled away from her, staring at his back.

"Some he made up, some where the fairy tales everyone knows but messed up, you know? Messed around so it wasn't the perfect princess ridden off with the charming prince. It was kids like we had been, kids with nothing finding homes and people that cared. Kids like us not being hurt anymore."

"Sounds like a damn good story," Lydia said.

"Yeah. And they always ended up with brothers," Bobby gave a short bark of a laugh. "Always three older brothers, one was calm, one a ladies' man. And one that always seemed to save the day." Glad no one could see him, Bobby smiled. The tears came, but so did the joy.

"You were his hero, Bobby," Lydia told him. "Out of all of your family, you were the one I heard the most about. The immoveable Michigan Mauler. Scary and fierce, the toughest guy Jack knew. And the best. He wanted to be just like you."

"He was so much better than me," Bobby said, his voice breaking a little. "He was smart and creative and he could have been anything. But the world fucked him up."

"And you held him together, long enough for him to learn how to do it himself. You're the reason Jack lived as long as he did, Bobby, not the reason he died."

Part of Bobby wished Lydia would stop talking – he was not strong enough to handle much more. The other part of him wanted her to keep talking, keep telling him how it was not his fault, that he did right by Jack.

"He loved you, Bobby. At the end of it, you were the one he wanted." It hurt Lydia to hear – it had hurt to hear when Sofi had told her about Jack dying in the snow, on the sidewalk outside his house. "Not me or Evelyn. At the end, he was reaching for you."

"I was with him."

"So were Ang and Jerry."

"But I was the eldest. I was the one that had always saved him before." He felt hands on his arms and looked over his shoulder.

"I'm too big to hug you. You're gonna have to help me out here," Lydia told him.

Bobby smiled but gathered her up, bump and all, into a bear hug.

Tony sat there, eyeing the carton of Chinese hoping it would not spill because he was not fast enough to catch it. Not without pulling out stitches and aggravating a lot of already abused bone and muscle. His little Dee and grown up since he last saw her. And that Bobby? Turned out even maulers had hearts.

They spent the rest of the day at the hospital, thankfully emotion-wrenching free, Bobby making Lydia eat whenever he could, them all making plans for what to do when Tony got out of hospital.

"I'll stay at Tony's until he's out of hospital and then I can take care of him," Lydia said, feeling it was pretty sensible.

Bobby, evidently, did not. "You're not staying here alone. You're coming home with me. We can come back when Tony is out of hospital."

"I'll be too big by then. The doctor won't let me travel."

"I'll be fine on my own," Tony grumbled. For god's sake, he was a thirty-nine year old man!

"No, I want you with me while you heal. You need help."

"We can't re-camp everyone to Boston, Dee!" Bobby said. "Tony will have to stay with us. We can put you on the sofa – you won't make it up the stairs in your condition."

"I don't need all this," Tony said.

"Shush!" they both hissed at him. He contemplated folding his arms and sulking but the movement was difficult.

"I'm not leaving him here!" Lydia hissed.

"He's a grown man!" Bobby hissed back.

"I'm not leaving for a while!" Tony butted in.

"They said you would be released in a few days!" Lydia exclaimed.

"Well, that may not be true," Tony hedged.

Lydia glared and Bobby was amused to see the huge man actually shift nervously at the sight of her flashing eyes.

"The doctor came to see me – he wants to keep me in for another two weeks, just to be sure everything is healing right."

"Two weeks!" Lydia shrieked, her high pitched tone attracting the attention of everyone in a ten metre radius. "I'll be eight months pregnant by then! I won't be able to leave!"

"Then don't," Tony grumbled. He loved Dee but he was tired and he needed more pain medication. He pushed the button by his bed and the nurse arrived with a fresh needle which she injected into his IV drip. His eyes started to get heavy and he lay back on his pillows, sleepy.

"We'll get this figured out, Tony, don't worry," Bobby said, putting a hand on the bartender's uninjured shoulder.

"I'll see you soon, Tony, okay?" Lydia said close to his eye. "Even if I got two newborn babies screaming in my arms. I'll be here." She kissed him on the cheek and let Bobby lead her away.

They made it home in good time. It was dark by the time they got to the house and Bobby had to walk behind Lydia, his hand on her back, so she would not fall down the stairs as they went up to bed.

"Goodnight, Bobby, and thank you." Outside her room Lydia kissed his cheek sleepily and went inside, shutting the door.

"Night, kid. Don't worry, I got a plan." With that Bobby when to bed, the cogs in his brain already whirring to figure out the details.


	11. The Plan

The Plan

It was time to pick Tony up from the hospital. Lydia could not move to Boston to take care of him being so close to her due date – the nursery was all set up, the doctors were ready. At eight and half months pregnant, Lydia was in no condition to be taking care of anyone by herself; Bobby did not even like her going down the stairs on her own anymore given that she could not see her feet.

So, Bobby had surprised her one day with his plan, one that he had already agreed on with Tony. Tony was moving to Detroit. Lock, stock and barrel. They even had him buying a bar from someone who was retiring. Bobby had fixed it all.

Lydia wiped away the tears and laughed as Bobby hugged her. "Thank you, Bobby," she said as she leaned into him.

"No problem, kid," Bobby said.

They broke apart and Lydia sat on the sofa. She was frowning.

"What's wrong, Dee?" Bobby asked, sitting on the coffee table in front of her. "Thought you were happy about this. Or have are the mood swings measured in seconds now?"

He smirked and took the punch she gave his arm.

"No," she said, "but where are we going to put Tony? He can't get up the stairs."

"All sorted," Bobby said. "There's a place not that far away."

"Really?" Lydia brightened at the idea of Tony being so close.

Bobby nodded. "He may end being closer to us than Angel and Sofia."

Lydia leaned against the cushions rubbing her bump, smiling contentedly. She was a lot calmer these days, Bobby noted. Less defensive now she had all the people she cared about moving closer. Death-stare Dennison was slowly being replaced by the latest Mercer mother. A being no less tough but a lot mellower and far fiercer when riled than the woman Lydia had been.

Bobby looked at the pictures lining the walls. He, Jerry, Angel and Jack were all there in a row with a new addition next to Jack's picture. Lydia leaning against a doorjamb, proudly showcasing the large baby bump in a clingy blue dress.

_Jack would have loved her in that dress, _Bobby thought_. She was a knockout. Even that pregnant. _

"What cha thinking so hard about, Mauler?" Lydia asked playfully, nudging Bobby with her foot.

"Jack," Bobby said simply. There was no point lying to Lydia – after living in this house only the two of them for months they knew each other too well to make lying effective.

"Been thinking about him a lot lately," Lydia said, looking at Bobby with that soft maternal gaze she usually saved for the bump.

Bobby shrugged. "Babies are due soon. The closer it gets the more I think of him." He did not mention how he had begun dreaming about Jack again, like he had in the weeks after his brother's death, dreams that had stopped when Lydia had turned up and suddenly Bobby had to focus on the living not the dead.

Lydia knew what he dreamt about, and how often. She was the one who woke him up when he started screaming. The one that make him fucking _cocoa _and patted his hand as they sat in the kitchen in the middle of the night while Bobby went over that night's nightmare.

He always dreamt about what could have happened if he had noticed Jack had left a little sooner. What if Jack had been carrying a piece? Why had Bobby not taught him to, made him, carry, always, no matter what?

Because he had overestimated himself. He had thought he would always be there for his family, always be the one to take the bullet if he had to. Bobby Mercer had found the difference between what he was willing to do and what he was able to do the day Jack died. He was willing to sell his soul to save his brother. But he was only able to hold his brother and cry as Jack faded away, laying there in the snow.

"I don't think Jack blames you, Bobby," Lydia said quietly looking at him. He felt her eyes on him even if he was not willing to return the gaze.

"He should. I'm the reason he'll never get to see his kids," Bobby said, focusing on the picture of Jack so he did not have to acknowledge the lump in his throat.

"You're the reason he stayed alive long enough to have them," she told him. "He told me. He told me about that day. He told me what you did."

Bobby fought not to look at her, not wanting to see the contempt and judgement in Lydia's eyes. He knew exactly what day Lydia was talking about. The first time he had killed for his family.

The day he came home and found Jack, beaten and bruised, barely conscious as that bastard Dirk held him down. Dirk had been too busy trying to get his fly undone that he had not seen Bobby come in. He did not Bobby until Bobby had slammed into him, the same as he had done years before when Dirk had accosted Jack on the way home from school. But this time he did not stop hitting Dirk when Dirk stopped talking shit about Bobby's family. He did not stop when Dirk stopped fighting back. He did not stop when Dirk stopped breathing. Bobby had only stopped when his arms got too tired to keep hitting.

Jack had crawled over to him as he sat, panting, next to Dirk. His little brother had taken one look at the battered man lying on his living room floor and thrown his full weight behind his punch – just the way Bobby had taught him too.

They had called the cops who had turned up to find the house trashed and Jack in serious need of medical attention. Bobby had been arrested for aggravated manslaughter and went to prison for three years.

Bobby finally looked at her and found nothing but understanding and acceptance in Lydia's eyes. "Do you hate me?" he asked gruffly.

Lydia smiled sadly and shook her head, "oh Bobby, hon, I don't hate you. I never have."

"You don't blame me for Jack?" Bobby asked.

"No, Bobby, I don't blame you," she said. She held out her hand and he took it, letting her tug him to the sofa to sit down where she rested her head on his shoulder. "You did what you could, Bobby. Angel and Jerry are still here because of you. Jack just...Jack just didn't make it."

They sat there for a while, tears winding down their cheeks as they thought of Jack. The man he had been. The father he could have been.

Grief is not something that can be acknowledged then put in a box and locked away. Although it felt like a lifetime ago, it had only been six months since Jack's death. Lydia still expected to wake up to his warm body curled around hers. Bobby still expected to walk into Jack's room and see his little brother sitting on his bed strumming on that guitar; it caught him off guard when he walked in and found Lydia sat reading or, more often these days, sleeping soundly wrapped up in one of Jack's hoodies like it was a shield.

"Will you tell the babies about him, Bobby?" Lydia asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah, I'll tell them about him," Bobby said. "I can tell 'em right now."

Lydia smiled. "I think we'd like that."

They did not move for hours, Lydia listening as Bobby went through the years with Jack. He had been ten when Evelyn had brought him home. A tiny, thin, brutalised ten year old. Bobby had taken one look at him and thought the kid would not make it through the night. Jack spent the next sixteen years proving him wrong. And Bobby was thankful every morning when he did. He had watched his brother grow into a man. He tried to remember a time when he had told Jack he was proud of him but he could not think of one. He had been, though; he had been proud of Jack every day.

Bobby had known when Lydia fell asleep. He knew he should have woken her up and made her go to bed but he was too comfortable. Before he knew it, he was asleep too, his head dropping back against the cushions.

When Lydia woke up she was in her own bed. The last thing she remembered was falling asleep on the sofa so she supposed Bobby had carried her up here.

She did not envy the backache he probably had right now.

Turning over to look at the clock she saw it was half seven in the morning.

_Time to get out of bed, _she thought with a groan.

Swinging her legs out of bed, Lydia grabbed the maternity sweats (maternity sweats? Was she _that _big?) and pulled them on, not caring that her nightshirt had gotten tucked into her waistband at some points and hung out at others. It was too early to care she decided, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her palm.

She left her room, knocked loudly on Bobby's bedroom door, heard him grumble that he was awake within, waited until she heard the bed groan as he got out, and then went downstairs to start on breakfast.

She heard him stumbled down into the kitchen about ten minutes later in nothing, and turning around saw Bobby standing in the doorway in nothing but his long johns, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

Lydia burst out laughing. She could not help it.

"What?" Bobby muttered, half falling into a chair. This early in the morning, Bobby was not capable of anything but muttering.

"Nice bedhead, Bobby," Lydia chuckled, setting coffee in front of him and ruffling his hair.

It did not do much since his hair was already sticking up in every direction but Bobby still pushed her hand away. "Gerroff," he grumbled before taking that first sweet gulp of hot coffee.

Lydia, still giggling, went over to the skillet and spooned scrambled eggs onto toast that Bobby described as 'well done' and she described as 'cremated'. She put the plate in front of Bobby before spooning the remaining eggs onto her own, less burnt toast.

Bobby waited until Lydia was sat down with her morning tea before picking up his own knife and fork and beginning to eat.

"So, when is Tony getting here?" Lydia asked.

"Picking him up from the airport at six," Bobby said, shovelling food into his mouth. "His stuff is already at the apartment."

"It was nice of Jerry and Angel to go down to Boston and pack up Tony's stuff," Lydia said.

"It was either that or let the insane pregnant woman do it," Bobby muttered.

"Ha ha ha," Lydia said making a face at him.

"You still directed getting it all into the place," Bobby placated her.

"I did not direct," Lydia protested. "I made suggestions as to where things should go."

"You made Angel cry."

"His eyes were watering from the dust!" Lydia said shrilly.

"You stamped on his foot."

"He wasn't listening to me," Lydia muttered into her (decaf) coffee.

Bobby decided not to tease her any further. It was one thing to make a Marine cry. Bobby did not want to find out if she could make him cry, too.

"I'll pick Tony up straight from work and take him to his new place," Bobby said, finishing off his eggs and getting up from the table.

"But I wanted to be there!" Lydia said.

Damn but she looked disappointed; Bobby hated that.

"Camille's gonna pick you up and take you to the apartment so you'll be there for when he gets there," Bobby told her.

Lydia brightened. "I can pick some stuff up and make him dinner! Ooh, I need to make a list."

She stood up to scurry off to the nearest pen and paper but Bobby caught her and sat her back down. "I'll get the paper, you finish eating."

"And a pen!" Lydia called after him.

Bobby rolled his eyes – how stupid did she think he was?

"Right, make your list and I'll see you tonight." Bobby put the stuff by her elbow, kissed Lydia on the head and headed upstairs to get ready.

Lydia sat making her list, chewing eggs and toast until she heard Bobby clattering down the stairs again.

"Bye, Bobby!"

"Later, Dee!" The front door slammed and Bobby was gone. Looking over her list, Lydia decided she had gotten everything she needed. Moving carefully, she stood and made her way up the stairs. It was embarrassing how long it took these days.

An hour later, Lydia make her way equally carefully down the stairs again and collapse on the sofa. Putting her feet up on cushions on the sofa, Lydia lay back with the remote in her hand. Her feet were aching and swollen. Pregnancy = pain, as Lydia had quickly discovered. The more pregnant you were, the more pain you seemed to be in.

Sofia and Camille found her like that when they barrelled in the front door a couple hours later, bickering as usual. Bickering seemed to be their way of showing their affection for each other.

"Loca! Where are you?" Sofia called out.

"Dee, honey, you in?" Camille said.

"In here," Lydia said.

Coming in the living room, the girls found her lying on the sofa.

"Oh, honey, you okay?" Camille asked concerned, sitting on the table next to Lydia.

"My feet hurt like a fucker," Lydia said without motherly discretion.

"Sofia, go make her some tea, I'll rub her feet," Camille said. "Don't worry, sweetheart," she said, smiling kindly at Lydia, "I remember how painful the best experience in your life can be."

"You did this twice? Voluntarily?" asked Lydia.

"Yep," Camille said, moving to the end of the sofa and beginning to rub Lydia's feet. "Believe me, it's worth it when you hold them for the first time."

"Huh," Lydia said. She was incapable of saying more – Camille rubbing her feet was heaven.

"Here we go, Loca," Sofia said, putting the cup on the table and sitting on the floor next to Lydia. "Tea. There's a list on the kitchen table, do you want me to get it when I go to the market?"

"Oh, would you, hon?" Lydia said, taking Sofia. "I'd go with you but my feet are so painful today."

"Don't worry, I've got it. I'll go now. Back soon." Sofia stood up (Lydia hated her for being able to do that without help), blew them kisses and disappeared in a cloud of perfume.

Eight hours later, Lydia, Camille, Sofia and Camille's daughters were in the kitchen starting on the housewarming feast that would greet the boys home. Lydia wanted everything to be perfect for Tony, who had done so much for her, to prove that this was not a bad decision.

Two hours after that, Tony opened the door to his new home. Bobby, Angel and Jerry were right behind him, carrying the few bags that had not been shipped containing stuff Tony trusted no one but himself to transport, mostly pictures and the like of him and Dee and the old staff of his bar.

"Tony!" Lydia yelled. She got down from her kitchen stool awkwardly and waddled as fast as she could to her ex-Hells Angel.

"Heya, kid," Tony, wrapping one arm around her tightly, the other on the cane the doctor told him he would have to use for a while yet. "How you doing, Dee?"

"Big," Lydia said, one hand on her back, the other rubbing her bump.

"Yeah, I can see that," Tony said with his slow smile. "How are the babies?"

"Good," Lydia said. "Little rowdy right now."

"You okay?" Bobby butted in sharply.

"Oh, yeah," Lydia said with a glowing smile, waving the idea of trouble away. "They're getting big and there's not much room for them anymore, that's all. A certain young man doesn't like sharing his space with his sister."

"A girl and a boy, huh?" Tony said.

"Yep."

"Got any names picked out?"

"We thought of some," Lydia hedged, smiling at Bobby. "Right, Bobby?"

"Shut up, Dee," Bobby grumbled. "Tony, I'm putting your bags in your room."

"Thanks, Bobby. Now why is he telling you to shut up?" Tony asked Lydia as Bobby disappeared around the corner to the bedroom.

"Oh, he thinks they should be called 'vampire' and 'trouble' because one of them never sleeps at night and the other keeps kicking me." Lydia looked down at her bump lovingly – she did not mind.

Tony finally looked around his new living room and gave a low whistle. "Wow, you guys did this really nice for me. Better than my old place."

"We want it to be home," Lydia said, tucking one arm through his elbow and leading him slowly around – neither could go that fast. "We tried to get it to look like your old apartment but then Camille did the decorating."

"Yeah, good," Tony said. "Couldn't stand the paint in my old place but there never seemed any time to do it up. Or any point – spent most of my time at the bar anyway."

"I'm sorry about the bar, Tony," Lydia said, sitting on the chair in the bedroom.

"Yeah, me too, kid." Tony said, sitting heavily on the bed. He stroked the comforter thoughtfully. "It was home, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, it was," Lydia said sadly. "Only real home a lot of us ever had."

"Till those yahoos went and burnt it down. I worked in that place for twenty years. Everything I had was tied up in that bar. But, hey, the insurance paid out. Probably more than the bar was worth."

"Only in money," Lydia said softly. "Can't put a price on the first time you felt safe."

Tony looked over at her, smiling gently to see the woman his little Dee had become. "No, you can't. But you seem to be doing pretty well on that score. You live with Bobby, right?"

"Yeah, at the Mercer house where they grew up."

"Anything going on between you two?" Tony asked. He had not missed the way Bobby kept protective watch over Lydia every time Tony saw them, or the way Lydia seemed to seek him out when she was unsure, as though he was a source of reassurance.

Lydia gave a half smile. "You'd like that, wouldn't Tony?"

"Can't say I don't want you to have a man that looks after you," Tony said. "I admit it freely."

"Nah, me and Bobby are...me and Bobby. I can't define it and I don't try to. He's good, Tony, a real good guy. Maybe not by most people's standards but for me a good guy is someone whose there when it counts and who takes care of his family. Bobby does that. We still both kind of reeling after Jack. Maybe in the future it could be more but right now...Bobby's safe, Tony. I got a family now; I got two babies due in eleven days, I got three brothers who drive me nuts sometimes but I couldn't love them more, I got two sisters who make me smile, I got nieces that make me laugh, I got you. And I got Jack. I'm doing alright."

"Yeah, you are, kid." On the outside, Tony was sturdy as ever. On the inside, he was elated – he had a family.

"Come on, we slaved in that kitchen for this dinner," Lydia said. "So, you're gonna love it even if you're lying. I want you to meet everyone."

The Mercers had, with unusual tact, left Lydia and Tony to look around and reconnect before they met were all introduced.

"Yes! Now we can eat!" Angel said when they came back in the living room.

"Tony, you remember the guys but I want you to meet Camille and Sofia, they're the women that made this place home," Lydia said, taking Tony to the relevant family members.

"Even though we did all the heavy lifting," Jerry grumbled.

Camille glared at him before smiling at Tony. "We hope you like it."

"It's great, thank you." Tony was honestly touched by the care and help he had got from the Mercers. It had been Bobby who called him while he was in the hospital with the plan already all worked out. Tony was going t say no – he got by on his own terms, always had, always would – but when Bobby said in no uncertain terms that they were not doing this for Tony but for Lydia, Tony had been forced into agreeing. If Lydia wanted him in Detroit, he would go to Detroit.

Daniela and Amelia were fascinated by the caring giant they were introduced to. They plied him with questions about how tall it was and what it was like to be that big.

"It's kind of like this," Tony said, swooping both girls up in one arm so they could see from his height.

The girls squealed with delight at the new vantage point.

"Mommy, Mommy! Look how big we are!" Daniela cried.

"I see that, baby," Camille said, grinning. "Come on, everyone, wash your hands and let's eat."


	12. New Arrivals

Chapter Eleven – New Arrivals

Tony had only been in his apartment for five days when Lydia went into labour. He got the call from Bobby at five in the morning as he was driving down the freeway taking Lydia, who was swearing a blue streak in the background, to the hospital; he had already called Jerry and Camille, who was Lydia's birthing partner, and Angel and Sofia who were heading over to look after Daniela and Amelia for awhile – they would take them to the hospital closer to the time.

"Alright, I'm coming," Tony said, getting out of bed.

"You got five minutes," Bobby told him. "Jerry and Camille are picking you up."

Well, that solved Tony's problem of how to get to the hospital this early when he could not drive yet.

"Thanks, Bobby," Tony said.

"Just get here," Bobby said, his voice tight.

They hung up and Tony threw on whatever came to hand, already outside when Jerry did a handbrake turn in front of the building. Tony limped into the back and Jerry was off before he had his seatbelt on.

When they got to the hospital, Bobby was pacing up and down in front of the nurse's station waiting for them.

"What took you so long?" he demanded. "She's been asking for you."

"Bobby, we got through Detroit in thirty minutes," Jerry told him, not having to mention the illegality of what he had done to pull that off.

"Come on," Bobby said, turning on his heel and leading them into the maternity ward to where Lydia was lying back on her pillows awhile having her blood pressure taken.

"Can I have the painkillers yet or not?" Lydia demanded through gritted teeth.

"Not yet, honey," the nurse said, patting her hand. "I'll get the doctor."

"Fine," Lydia muttered as the nurse walked away, "get the frigging doctor you painkiller-hoarding bitch."

"She's just doing her job, Dee," Bobby said.

"Yeah, and I'm just in pain!" Lydia yelled.

"They're here," Bobby said, moving aside so Lydia could the bleary-eyed trio that had just turned up.

Lydia instantly melted into teary gratitude – her mood swings over the last few months had left Bobby with whiplash. "Hi, guys," she said.

"Oh, sweetie, how are you?" Camille asked, coming to Lydia's bed.

"Um, well, I'm in labour, they won't let me have any painkillers and I have to push two babies out of my vagina. Other than that, I'm doing okay," Lydia grimaced.

Camille gave a giggle which turned into a yelp of pain when the next contraction hit and Lydia grabbed the person nearest to her – that being Camille – and squeezed her hand.

"Okay, honey, that's it, just keep breathing like we practiced," Camille said encouragingly, rubbing Lydia's back as the pain swept through her.

"Fuck this hurts," Lydia gasped as her womb tightened painfully. "Christ, if Jack was here I'd kill him."

"I know, honey, I know," Camille said, counting seconds in her head.

"Yeah, I know, too," Jerry said darkly. "She broke my nose giving birth to Amelia."

Bobby and Tony snorted with laughter and Jerry glared at them.

"Hey, you men, either get over here and be useful, or go away," Camille demanded. "Don't just stand there snickering."

Lydia slumped back into the pillows. "Wow that hurt."

"Bobby, find that nurse and get that doctor here, _now,"_ Camille barked. Bobby hastened to obey, not wanting to be on the end of _that _wrath. "Jerry, get Lydia some ice. Tony, grab a chair and sit next to her; you're gonna help her through these contractions."

Given that Camille's hand was still bloodless from where Lydia had squeezed her hand Tony was not that comforted by this idea. But, when he opened his mouth to protest, Camille glared at him with such ferocity that he found himself shutting his mouth again and moving the chair.

"You're doing great, Dee," he said, patting her hand. Camille nodded in approval of his actions.

"Yeah, well, you've been here five minutes." Lydia shifted, trying in vain to find a more comfortable position.

"How long you been having contractions?" he asked.

"Called Camille about eleven last night when the first one hit. Called the hospital, they told me to wait until they started coming closer together. Which they did about an hour ago so I woke Bobby up and he took me to hospital."

"Why didn't you tell him when they first started?" Tony demanded.

"Because I didn't need him freaking out while there was nothing for him to do," Lydia said, smoothing her hair away from her sweaty brow. "You should have seen him, Tony. It took him ten minutes to tie his shoes. He gave up in the end."

Tony had wondered why Bobby's bootlaces had been undone when they met up with him but was too focused on getting to Dee to follow it up.

"Ooh," Lydia's hands fluttered. "Contraction, contraction."

Tony and Camille each took a hand, Camille looking at one monitor that told her something Tony did not understand at all. Apparently, it measured the contractions because Camille kept saying things like, "okay, you're doing fine...worst is over...keep going, honey...it's over," which went pretty well with how hard Lydia was squeezing his hand.

Lydia once more slumped back into the pillows, looking wiped. It worried Tony how tired she was already if she was not even pushing yet – how was she going to make it through this?

"Doctor," Bobby said, turning up with Lydia's doctor.

"Ice," Jerry said, coming back with a green plastic cup.

Lydia took the cup while the doctor lifted the sheet without preamble and began to examine her.

_WHOA! _Bobby thought, moving quickly out of the line of sight. _NOT needed!_

Lydia seemed to be thinking along the same lines. "Okay, everyone without a medical degree, _up _by my head, _now!" _she growled.

Jerry and Bobby shuffled closer to the head of the bed.

"Six centimetres dilated," the doctor said, taking off the gloves with a snap and throwing them in the bin. "Another four centimetres and you're ready."

"How long with that take?" Tony asked, eyeing Lydia's pale, clammy complexion.

"As long as it takes," Doctor Marks said. "Can't really predict these things I'm afraid. I'll be back in half an hour to check on you." He gave them all a nod and walked away.

"Half an hour?" Bobby bit out. "It's gonna take that long?"

"I was in labour for forty-seven hours with Daniela," Camille said.

"And Amelia?"

"Thirty-eight."

"Christ." Bobby sat down heavily on the bed. "You okay?" he asked Lydia.

"People keep asking me that," she growled. "Trust me, the answer's not going to change except how much pain I'm in."

"Oh." Bobby nodded.

Jerry handed Lydia the cup and began crunching the ice. "Man, that's good," she said.

The morning passed. The doctor came and went; the midwife arrived and stayed with her. The contractions built in regularity and intensity until Lydia felt like she was being ripped apart.

"Gah! Oh, God, please let this stop. I'm done now, I've changed my mind," Lydia said mindless. "I don't want this anymore. I want to go home."

"Hey, hey, come on, girlie, you can do this," Bobby told her, holding her hand in both of his as she gripped him. "It's almost over now. Just a little more."

Lydia squeezed her eyes shut and a tear trickled down her face. "Bobby, I can't..."

"Yes, you can." Bobby rubbed her lower back like Camille told her to before she had gone to the vending machine to get a coffee. His brother's wife had assured him that he could handle this but he was not so sure. His M.O. was to kick back but there was nothing to hit against. All he could do was sit and hold her hand as Lydia bit down on contraction after contraction, certain that Lydia could not get through an experience this brutal.

With a jolt, Bobby realised he was scared.

"I want Jack," Lydia cried.

"I know, I wish Jack was here, too." Bobby was pretty sure Jack would be better at this – after the initial freak-out Jack would have been cool as ice. Bobby felt like he was barely keeping it together.

"I want him here so I can hit him!" Lydia yelled.

Bobby laughed, "me, too, Dee."

Camille came back just as the contraction subsided and Bobby let go of Lydia's hand to surreptitiously massage the feeling back into it.

Camille brushed Lydia's hair, trying to soothe the younger woman. "Still doing good, Dee," she said brightly.

"Please make it stop now," Lydia begged.

"I'll get the doctor," Bobby said, needing to actually _do_ something.

Camille nodded and Bobby practically raced to the other end of the ward. "Doc! Hey, Doc!"

Doctor Marks looked around just in time for Bobby to drag him the length of the ward and push him in front of Lydia. "Uh, so, yeah, check her, or whatever," he said, sitting back down next to Lydia and patting her hand.

Dr. Marks lifted the sheet as the contraction hit quickly and Lydia bent forward double.

"Okay, it's time," the doctor decided. "Let's get you to the delivery room."

"Oh thank god," Lydia said weakly.

The orderlies raced up to wheel her away.

"Bobby?" Lydia looked for him. She did not have to look far.

"I'm here, kid," Bobby reassured her.

"Okay, just...be there, okay? With the others."

"Yeah, kid, we'll be here." Bobby watched as the midwife, Camille and the orderlies ran with the gurney out of the ward. He slumped back into his seat feeling drained. He put his head in his hands trying to breath, barely hearing Jerry and Tony when they turned up from the relatives room where they had tried futilely to distract themselves.

"Where's Dee?" Tony asked urgently.

"You just missed her," Bobby said looking up, finally feeling the three hours sleep he had gotten last night. "She's being delivered now."

"Shouldn't be too long," Jerry said. "I'll call Angel; tell him to get here with the girls." He disappeared.

Tony took the seat next to Bobby. "I wanted to say goodbye," he said sadly. "I shouldn't have left."

"You were here all morning," Bobby said, rubbing his face. "She knows you're here."

"Yeah."

They sat in silence until the nurse kindly but firmly asked them to leave so they could give the spot to the newest arrival.

They got up and waited with Jerry outside, all them needing some fresh air.

Jerry's Volvo rounded the corner so fast it was on two wheels for a second. Jerry's eyes went wide as it screeched to a stop and Sofia got out, unbuckling the girls who ran to their daddy.

"What the hell, Angel!" Jerry yelled, picking up Amelia and put his arm around Daniela to pull her in closer to him, presumably away from her speeding uncle.

"You said get here quick," Angel said from the driver's seat.

"I didn't mean put my daughters in danger!"

"This is the safest car on the road!"

"Not when you drive it!"

"Enough," Bobby said and his brothers fell silent. "Angel, go park the car, Jerry take this lot to wait outside the delivery room, I'll walk Angel up there."

"Alright," Jerry grumbled. "But he ain't driving my car again!"

"Jerry, now."

Tony had to respect the authority Bobby had within his family. Jerry questioned the girls on possible injuries but led them all inside.

Ten minutes later, the six of them were outside the delivery room waiting. Just waiting.

Angel let out a breath. "I can't take any more waiting, man. This morning was hell."

"Try being here," Jerry said. "Man, it was rough. Lydia was in serious pain."

"She's fine," Bobby said from where he leant against the wall. "She's tough." She has to be tough.

His brothers and Tony nodded in agreement.

Inside the delivery room, Camille held Lydia's hand and the younger woman pushed her babies into the room.

"Okay, Lydia, big push now," the midwife said, supporting the baby's head.

"Big? What, the others were easy?" Lydia said through gritted teeth as she pushed the baby's body out with all her might.

There was a slippery rush and an almighty wail and Lydia and Jack's son officially became his own person.

He was rushed away from Lydia to be cleaned up. Part of Lydia wanted to scream at them to give her baby back but the bigger part of her was focused on delivering his sister safely.

"I can't believe I have to do this all over again," Lydia sat, slumping against Camille as she breathed deeply, waiting for the next contraction.

Camille chuckled softly, holding Lydia up. "I can't say I envy you."

"Okay, push, Lydia," the midwife said as the contraction hit.

"Lady, you need a new catchphrase," the labouring mother said as she once more bore down.

"And stop," the midwife told her.

Stop, start. Push, don't push. Lydia hated being told what to do.

Lydia screamed as she gave birth to her second baby. But then it was all over. The baby's umbilical cord was being cut and both of them were being handed to Lydia who cried as she looked down at her children.

"Oh my god, they're beautiful," Camille said, gently pushing the blanket away from the babies' faces to see them properly.

"They're perfect," Lydia whispered. How did two messed up kids like her and Jack create a pair so incredible?

"You want me to go get the others?" Camille asked.

"In a minute," Lydia said, not looking away from her twins. "I just want a minute with them alone, okay?"

"Okay," Camille kissed her cheek. "I'll go tell them, let you get cleaned up."

Lydia nodded.

"Well?" Camille was bombarded from every direction as soon as she stepped out of the delivery room.

"Two very healthy babies, one boy and one girl weighing in at five pounds six ounces and five pounds four ounces respectively," Camille grinned.

Jerry gave a laugh of joy and hugged his wife.

"Five six? Five four? Isn't that a little small?" Bobby asked.

"Don't tell Lydia that," Camille warned him. "She'll kill you – it was hard on her."

"It's a good weight for twins, Bobby," Jerry said.

"You sure?" asked Tony, getting firmly on the concerned bandwagon.

"Yeah, the midwife said they were just fine," Camille told them.

"What about the doctor," Angel asked, his arm around Sofia.

"Guys, they're all doing great," Camille said, putting her hands up to ward off questions. "Come on, you can see them now."

She was almost flattened as the Mercers ploughed down the corridor to the room where Lydia was now resting with the newest members of the Mercer family.

Daniela and Amelia waited for Camille.

"Hi, Mommy," her girls greeted her.

"Hey, babies." Camille went down on one knee to hug her daughters. "You have fun with your uncle?"

"Yeah. He showed us how to disarm someone," Daniela said blithely.

"Oh," Camille looked at Jerry who shrugged and mouthed 'Marine'. "Well that's...good. Come on, let's go meet your cousins."

The two girls ran down the corridor while their parents followed at a more sedate pace.

"You did good, hon," Jerry said, his arm around his wife's shoulder, and he kissed her forehead.

Camille leant into Jerry. "I'm so tired and I'm not the one who gave birth!"

"She okay?"

"Lydia's good," she assured her husband. "She was terrific – a trooper."

"Mom would have been proud."

"Evelyn would have been real proud," Camille agreed.

When they got in the room, the babies were being passed around by a cooing family. Bobby and Angel were both on one knee so Amelia and Daniela could inspect their cousins.

"They're white," Daniela said.

"Uncle Jack and Aunt Dee are white," Amelia told her. A very emotional Lydia bit back tears at the young girl's words.

"They're kinda little," Daniela decided.

"Trust me it didn't feel that way," Lydia said darkly but she could not stop her smile a moment later.

"When will they be big enough to play?" Amelia asked her.

"Not for a while yet," Lydia told her.

"Can we help you look after them?" Daniela asked.

"Sure you can," Lydia said, "I'd like that; they're going to be a handful."

"'Course they are," Bobby said, looking down at the little boy in his arms. "They're Mercers."

"You decided on their names yet?" Tony asked as Lydia got her babies back and settled in her arms.

"Actually, yeah," Lydia said. "I want to call them Jack and Evelyn, if that's alright with you all." She asked the whole family but she was looking at Bobby as she spoke.

There were gasps and exclamations and all around approvals but Bobby did not say anything. He moved away from the bed, putting himself outside the circle a little to hide his red-rimmed eyes.

"What do you think, Bobby?" Lydia asked. Everyone else had agreed but it was Bobby she needed to hear it from.

Everyone turned to look and see the Michigan Mauler close to tears and there was nowhere for him to hide from them. They had never seen him this vulnerable before - he had made sure of that.

"I think they're really good names," he said hoarsely. "Come here," he went over and Lydia put both babies in his arms. "Welcome to the family, Jack and Evelyn Mercer. I promise, we're going to take real good care of you."

Lydia smiled as she rested back against the built up pillows, watching as the burly mechanic looked down at the tiny bundles in his arms, so safe and secure in his calloused hold.

"Done good, kid," Tony said, sitting next to her on the bed and putting his arm around her.

"Yeah, me and Jack did real good," she said, leaning into Tony's warm embrace.


	13. Epilogue

Epilogue

Bobby was sat on the doorstep of the Mercer house, the door open behind him, jiggling a baby on each knee.

"Hey, Bobby."

Bobby looked up to see...Jack, standing there in his black jeans and boots, his torn T-shirt and leather bands. His hair stood up on end and there was a gentle smile on his young face. He looked exactly like he did every time Bobby thought about him.

"Jack." Bobby was not surprised – he had been half expecting this since seeing his mother all those months ago while they fixed the house.

Jack's smile grew into a grin. "Look at you being all domestic."

"Shut up, you fairy," Bobby said. "You should be here, not me."

"Yeah," Jack looked sadly at the two babies currently drooling over him. "I should."

"Why didn't you tell me about Dee?" asked Bobby. It was the one thing he still did not really understand.

Jack leant against the wall. "Tell my big brother, the Michigan Mauler, that I was head over heels for a bartender? Yeah, you wouldn't have kicked my ass."

"That was before I met her. She's something, Jack."

"Yeah, I know. I knew the minute I met her."

"But you left her," said Bobby.

"To go to Mom's funeral. I never expected that I wouldn't go back." Jack looked at his children. "I never thought I'd have kids let alone die before they were born. They're beautiful."

"Yeah. I try to remember that at two in the morning when they start to cry," Bobby said wryly.

"Wish I could be there for that," Jack said thickly.

Bobby looked up to see a tear trickle down his brother's face. "She loves you, you know."

Jack nodded. "I wouldn't have left if I had known this was how it was going to turn out. Mom wouldn't have minded I don't think – she told me she'd kill me if I let Lydia go. I guess it happened anyway.

"Guess Mom was still getting it right," Bobby said, looking at baby Evelyn.

"Of course I was. Don't I always?"

Bobby's head shot up to see his mother standing next to Jack who smiled at her. She returned his smile before kneeling in front of Bobby to look closer at the twins.

"Oh, they're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Of course, so were Daniela and Amelia," she hurried on.

"Nice save, Mom," Bobby smiled. Evelyn smiled and waved a hand. "You want to meet them?" He hoisted the babies up a little higher. "Ma, Jack, meet Jack Junior and Evelyn. Jay Jay, Evie, meet your Grandma and your Dad."

"You named them after us?" Evelyn asked, welling up.

"Lydia did," Bobby told them, smiling at all four of them.

"So, Bobby, you sticking around this time?" Evelyn asked him the same question she had the last time she had visited him. This time, she knew he would give the right answer.

Bobby looked down at the children in his arms, "definitely, Ma."

Evelyn smiled, "oh, Bobby."

"Hey, Bobby? Look after my babies?" Jack asked seriously.

"You know I will," Bobby nodded.

"And Dee, look after her, too. Tell her...tell her I love her." Jack smiled wistfully. "We really could have been something."

"I know that, Jack. She knows it, too. She loves you."

Jack swallowed and nodded. "I guess we'll be seeing you, Bobby."

Bobby watched as Jack put his arm around Evelyn as they went to leave. "Hey, Bobby?" Jack turned back to his oldest brother. "What happened to me? Dying? It wasn't your fault. I lost my temper and went out there unarmed. This one's on me, you got that?"

"I got that, fairy." And that painful doubt that had plagued Bobby since Jack died eased and finally dissipated. He smiled at the deceased members of his family. "Be seeing you, Jack. Bye, Mom."

Bobby looked down to smile at the twins and when he looked up his mother and brother were gone.

"Hey, Bobby," Lydia came up behind him with two bottles of formula in her hands, "who are you talking to?"

"No one, Dee," Bobby said.

Lydia did not look convinced but exchanged a baby for a bottle. She sat down on the step below Bobby as they fed the twins.

The Volvo rolled up and Jerry's family got out.

"Hey, guys," Lydia said, "you made it!"

"You said you wanted to have dinner with all of us," Camille said.

"I still can't believe you want to celebrate the babies turning a month old. Who does that?" Bobby shook his head.

Lydia thumped him on the arm, "I do, okay? My babies, my rules, shut your mouth."

Tony walked up from the living room, "Angel and Sofia are arguing about place mats and it's getting physical. Can someone else separate them please?"

"Give them a moment," Bobby said. "They'll go upstairs to make up in a minute."

Tony looked behind him to see Sofia dragging Angel up the stairs. "You Mercers really are something to get used to."

Jerry smiled, "we're worth the effort."

"Believe us or we'll kill you," Bobby said.

"Bobby, are you developing a sense of humour?" Lydia asked sarcastically incredulous, "a really bad one, but a sense of humour none the less."

Bobby shrugged. "You told me to try to be happy."

Lydia shook her head, "you're impossible."

They continued to snap happily back and forth trying to gain the upper hand until Angel and Sofia came back downstairs and they were able to eat.

Around the table, the eleven of them sat and enjoy a truly Mercer dinner – lots of food and merry arguing until baby Evie, sitting on Lydia's lap, grabbed a handful of mash potato and threw it at Bobby. Bobby looked up when the mash potato slid from his forehead onto his lap. The others tried desperately not to laugh but failed miserably when Daniela burst out in manic giggles.

"You guys all suck," Bobby decided, wiping off his face with his napkin.

"We're family, Bobby, we're meant to laugh at you," Jerry told him.

"I should have stayed in Chicago," Bobby said.

"But then you wouldn't have all this," Sofia said, jiggling Jay Jay on her knee.

Bobby looked around the table at the people now in his life. This or Chicago?

This. Definitely this.

_You didn't think I'd let it end without seeing Jack again, did you? Short, I know, but it is the epilogue after all!_

_Review, please! Especially as this is the end! Huh! My first ever fan fiction is finished! Okay, so it's the THIRD to BE finished, but it was still the first one I ever started!_


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